


Revelations & Revolutions

by LadyWinterlight, NerdyKat



Series: Hermione Granger and the Child Protection Movement [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family, Horcruxes, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Non-Canonical Character Death, Past Child Abuse, Sibling Bonding, new relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-09-07 19:07:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 66,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20314516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyWinterlight/pseuds/LadyWinterlight, https://archiveofourown.org/users/NerdyKat/pseuds/NerdyKat
Summary: Fifth in the Child Protection Movement series, this story will pick up where "Kinship & Peril" left off and tell the story of how events continue to change. Events happen in the same timeline as OOTP, but we're pretty far off canon at this point.Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. We're just borrowing her universe for a while and do not make any profit from it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> At long last, the next installment of our series begins! While we apologize for the delay, we're sure you all understand that sometimes Real Life must come first. As is usual, this story is substantially complete and should post twice a week until it's all published.

** Chapter 1 **

The Grangers stayed with their guests at Potter Manor for the first week after the school term ended. Once everyone was comfortable, the teens promised they would be okay on their own for a few weeks; Spiffy assured everyone the House Elves would take excellent care of Master and Mistress’s friends, too. Minerva promised that she’d stay with the teens at night, while Severus took the day shift, just in case.

Both Harry and Hermione felt guilty about leaving their friends so soon after they coordinated all of them to go ‘missing,’ but their friends refused to allow them to feel that way for long.

“Harry, you literally died less than a month ago,” Draco pointed out. “You deserve a vacation.”

So the family packed their things for their planned trip to Hawaii. The four Grangers would be flying, but Sirius had brought up a valid point when they were purchasing tickets.

“You should fly; muggle travel is safer for you just now,” Sirius had argued. “But Moony and I… neither of us does well in a confined space with lots of people for an extended period of time.”

“But Uncle Padfoot, you promised…” Harry started to protest.

Sirius cut him off. “I’m not saying we won’t go. I’m saying you fly, and we’ll meet you there. I can make arrangements easily enough for Moony and myself to take an International Portkey.”

“That sounds a lot easier than international flights,” Hermione said thoughtfully. “Even if portkey travel isn’t fun, it’s over pretty fast.”

“That’s the idea, Kitten,” Sirius agreed.

When their flight landed in Hawaii, Remus met them at the airport and took them to their hotel. The family had a large beach cabin to themselves, rather than booking into one of the bigger hotels; Jean had suggested it, so they could avoid some of the crowds. When they arrived, they found Sirius waiting for them… with a surprise.

“Katie!” Harry exclaimed.

“Harry!” Katie all but threw herself into Harry’s arms and clung to him. He clung back just as tightly. “I’m so glad you’re okay. I mean, they told me you were, but…”

“Seeing it for yourself is important,” Harry murmured, holding her close, inhaling her scent, memorizing everything about her. He’d been having nightmares that he’d really died, and was forced to watch as Katie became lost in her grief. Somehow when Harry wasn’t looking, they’d grown to love each other in a deep and intense way. 

In the meantime, Viktor greeted Hermione with a soft smile. “Hello, Hermione,” he said.

“Viktor!” Hermione brightened when she saw him, and she hurried over for a hug of her own. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d be at Quidditch training!”

“I have some days off,” Viktor told her, enfolding her in his arms. “Vanted to see you, make sure all is vell.”

“How did you even know?” she asked.

“That would be my fault,” Sirius admitted with a grin. “I thought it would be fun to surprise you both.”

“It does mean you kids will have to share bedrooms,” Jean pointed out as she ushered everyone towards seats. “And I don’t mean with your significant other.”

Hermione laughed. “It’s okay, Mum. Katie and I get along just fine.”

“I think Katie could use a little explanation,” Sirius noted as Remus reappeared with tea. “She seems a little confused.” Harry slowly launched into the whole story, from his childhood on through to facing Voldemort, dying, meeting his father, and waking up and escaping. Some of it matched with what Katie, Angelina and Alicia had figured out over the years, but a lot of the story was new to her. Viktor also listened closely, sitting beside Hermione. Hermione had explained a great deal to him, but there hadn’t been time for the full story with all the details and she hadn’t been entirely sure what Harry wouldn’t want her to share at the time.

“Thank you for helping him,” Katie said to the Grangers when Harry had finished the story. “Our suspicions started that first year. But there’s not a lot that we could do, especially in Harry’s case, since he had no Head of Family. Even if we had managed to get Harry removed from his relatives, given Fudge’s ties, Harry would probably have been placed with an ‘influential pureblood family.’”

“Oh my god,” Hermione exclaimed. “That would have been…”

“Bad,” Harry finished. “It would have been bad.”

“Let’s just count our blessings then,” Jean said. “Harry’s alive, safe, and happy. We’re in Hawaii. Let’s not waste it.”

They stayed in Hawaii for three weeks, just relaxing and having fun. Viktor commuted to and from Bulgaria on his days off while Katie told her parents that she was staying with Angelina. They swam a lot, learned to snorkel and surf, and had evening fires on the beach. The young couples also went out on dates, some together and some separately. Katie and Harry spent a long time just walking alone together on the beach, talking about their pasts, and what they planned for the future.

“Do you think…” Sirius started.

Jean snorted. “They’re so  _ young _ . I mean, I’d imagined that once they’re a little older, maybe after university…”

“Most of our generation were married by nineteen,” Remus reminded the Grangers. “I remember James knew he was going to marry Lily the first time he saw her. And James had a cousin who was even married at seventeen. The second she could.”

“Marriage just… it takes so much work…” Jean said. “It seems unfathomable, to marry so young. When I was nineteen, I was on Gap Year.”

“Witches and wizards have had to grow up quickly, especially the last few generations,” Remus explained. “By the time they’re out of Hogwarts, most of them get careers and start families.”

“George,” Jean practically growled. “Back me up here!”

“I think… I think I’ve never seen Harry look at one of us the way he’s looking at Katie.” Everyone looked back out and saw Harry looking at Katie with an easy-going smile and not a hint of tension in his eyes, like he hadn’t a care in the world. The teen threw his head back and laughed at something Katie had said, looking for one of the first times, the adults all realized, like he was his own age.

“Even if they’re completely in love, he’s not even fifteen yet!” Jean protested. “It’s… it’s too soon to decide they want to marry.”

“They might not,” Sirius agreed quietly, recalling some of the follies of his own teenage years. “Just be prepared for the possibility that they might. It’s… encouraged, for wizards and witches.”

“Even Old Pads here was engaged by twenty-one!” Remus laughed. 

“You were engaged?” Jean asked, shocked. “What happened?”

Sirius colored significantly. “I was falsely and unlawfully incarcerated for murdering fifteen people.”

“Did you ever contact her after you were cleared?” Jean pressed.

Sirius looked down and away. “She’s not going to want to talk to me,” he muttered. “I asked. Apparently, she left the country not long after I was arrested and never came back.” 

“She might,” Jean countered, but she gentled her tone. “You don’t know if you don’t try. Owl her. Or reach out through friends.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Sirius evaded, wary of the situation and not certain he was willing to open himself up to that kind of hurt after everything else recently.

Jean’s attention was diverted when they spotted Hermione and Viktor walking up the beach, also hand in hand. “When did my babies grow up?” she pondered.

“While you weren’t watching, of course,” Remus answered, a seriousness underlying his teasing tone. Then he sighed. “It doesn’t really seem like they should be old enough to date, some days. That it can’t have been that long since we all met again. Other days, they make me feel ancient.”

“I think every parent feels that way at some point,” George observed, tugging Jean against his side with an arm around her shoulders. He watched as the four teens finally crossed each other’s paths; their laughter carried on the evening breeze and made them smile. “But they’re happy. That’s worth being proud of.”

Unaware of her parents’ current conversation, Hermione was having a significant and serious conversation with Viktor about Fred. “Have you thought about vhat I asked you? About Fred?” Viktor asked.

Hermione bit her lip. “Sort of. It’s all so confusing,” she admitted in a low voice. “Everything I’ve ever heard about romantic love tells me that falling for one person means I shouldn’t feel that way about someone else. But what I’m feeling… doesn’t make sense.”

“Tell me vhat you feel?” Viktor suggested gently. “Perhaps I can help you make sense from it. I svear, I vill not be angry about anything you tell me.”

Hermione sighed, then visibly struggled to gather her thoughts enough to put them into words. “I think I’m falling in love with you, Viktor,” she finally told him, a blush staining her cheeks pink. “You make me feel so special. You support me and let me be independent at the same time. You offer help before I even know to ask for it, sometimes. But…” she hesitated, but pushed herself to continue. A bright smile lit Viktor’s face, but there was still an expression of expectation in his dark eyes.

“Fred is different. He makes me feel special too, but not in the same way. He always knows how to make me smile or laugh when I need it. He appreciates that I’m smart, but he tries to make sure I have fun too. I don’t have to be thinking about solutions to the next likely problem, when he’s with me. And he has been trying to help me take care of Harry for a long time, now. He and George both have, I suppose.”

“If nothing else mattered,” Viktor prompted. “But my love for you and Fred’s love for you. Vhat vould you choose? Both of us? One of us?”

“I... “ Hermione froze, closing her eyes. She could picture it, the three of them sharing their lives with each other. It didn’t seem practical or possible. But Viktor had asked. With her eyes still closed, she spoke again. “I’d like to see you both,” she admitted. “I don’t want to have to choose.”

“Then you vill not have to,” Viktor promised.

Hermione opened her eyes. “You might be alright with it, but Fred… he comes from a very different family…”

“I have already spoken vith Fred,” Viktor admitted sheepishly.”I have tested a theory and confirmed that Fred is avare of the circumstances.”

“I want to speak with Fred first, when we get back, but I’ll keep that in mind,” Hermione concluded. “And Viktor… thank you. For understanding, and well… just everything.”

* * *

When they returned to Potter Manor on July 29th - deliberately planned so they could celebrate Neville’s and Harry’s birthdays with their friends - everyone stared.

“You look so different!” Draco exclaimed. It was true; both Harry and Hermione’s skin had tanned dark in the tropical sun, and Hermione’s chestnut hair had acquired golden highlights while Harry’s hair had gained a reddish undertone. They also looked happy and more relaxed than they’d ever been at Hogwarts.

“Are you  _ still _ taller?” Blaise exclaimed in disgust. “Leave some for the rest of us.”

“My dad was over six foot!” Harry said with a laugh. It was true though. He and Hermione had been pretty much dead even in growth if not in height during their early days of Hogwarts, but in the last few weeks, Hermione had slowed down while Harry had started to speed up. Sirius thought that it was possible that Harry could be even taller than James, but since James was gone, it was hard to compare the two.

“He’s still catching up,” Hermione added, also laughing. “I won’t mind having a tall brother, though. Someone needs to reach the top shelves in the library,” she teased.

“Aren’t you a witch?” Harry shot back, his tone playful. “What do you need me for?”

Hermione smirked. “Entertainment.” Luna snickered at Hermione’s comment, which set Draco off laughing at the siblings. Soon they were all laughing together.

“So,” Blaise drawled when they all calmed. “Tell us about your trip?”

“It was wonderful,” Hermione sighed happily. Her eyes took on a faraway look as she thought back over the last three weeks.

“Sirius surprised us by bringing Katie and Viktor to share the holiday with us,” Harry explained when Hermione failed to continue. “It was a lot of fun, really. We relaxed, explored the island, swam and snorkeled, went on dates, and generally got to enjoy being away from all the pressure and strain.”

“That sounds lovely,” Luna commented. “I’m glad you had a wonderful time.”

“We really did,” Hermione responded as she refocused on the present. “We really needed a break from, well, everything.”

“I’m happy you got one,” Neville said in a low voice. “It looks to have done you a lot of good.”

Crookshanks, who’d been left at the Manor, curled up on Harry’s lap and began to purr. She had been particularly attentive to Harry since his ‘death’ and resurrection. Harry and Hermione, between them, described snorkeling and swimming in the ocean and had a few laughs about learning to surf - a sport that Hermione turned out to be surprisingly good at.

“I have pretty good balance,” Hermione explained. “And I’ve always loved to swim. Unlike flying, falling into the water isn’t any big deal if you do it properly.”

“Unless the board whacks you on the head as you fall,” Harry teased.

“That’s what partners and lifeguards are for!” Hermione protested. “It’s not like I’d go out there alone!”

“Lifeguards?” Neville interrupted in a curious tone.

“Most pools and public swim areas have lifeguards. People who are trained in water rescues, first aid and CPR - which is like a resuscitation spell. Just in case an accident happens,” was the simple explanation from Hermione. “They’re there to make sure everyone’s safe, and to respond to emergencies.”

“Speaking of swimming,” Blaise said, changing the subject slightly. “Did you know that there’s a spring-fed pond towards the back of the property? The house-elves insisted that it’s safe to swim in, so we’ve been taking advantage of being out in the sun while we can too.”

“You’ll have to show us,” Harry said, smiling. “We explored the house and gardens, but never got all the way around the bounds of the wards.”

Draco grinned. “Of course.”

The teens spent the next two days together. They were still on vacation, so they planned to do cake and gifts for Neville from 11:00 to midnight, and then for Harry from midnight to 1am. However, Jean surprised them by conspiring with the elves to make two cakes, one for each of the boys. Neville got to request his favorite dinner on his birthday, and the same for Harry the following day. Fortunately, after the group party in Gryffindor Tower the year before, it was much less overwhelming for Harry to be surrounded by cheerful friends - and not just family - for his birthday.

The adults were worn out by the time July turned to August, but the boys had a great time so it was definitely worth it.

Fred and George Weasley visited regularly through August. They brought news, both in general and from the Order of the Phoenix - a group Dumbledore had formed during the first war against Voldemort and had reinstated upon confirmation that the madman was back in physical form. The twins were both of-age and had demanded admission into the Order despite their mother’s displeasure. They promised to keep Hermione, Harry and the rest of the group informed, particularly in the event that Remus and Sirius didn’t.

“Of course your uncles are both in the Order,” Gred said matter-of-factly when it came up. “They were the first time around, and just because the Order reactivated while you all were away doesn’t mean they aren’t still a part of it.”

“What’s going on?” Harry asked.

“The Order is working on protecting a Prophecy involving you and Voldemort in the Department of Mysteries,” Forge said. “Though they won’t say what the Prophecy says.”

“Paraphrasing, I have the power to kill Voldemort,” Harry revealed.

“Seriously?” Gred asked. “Wicked.”

“Honestly, there’s no telling if Harry’s already played his part. He found out about the Horcruxes and the Horcrux in him was removed,” George pointed out. “It’s more than possible that us adults could carry out the rest.”

“And Harry’s not going to be any more involved than he needs to be,” Jean added, warning in her voice. “He’s lost enough in the past fourteen years.”

“Mum,” Harry groaned, rolling his eyes. “I’m fine. Really.”

“By sheer, dumb luck, you’re fine, yes,” Jean assented. “But you’ve come close to dying more times than I’m comfortable with.”

“I’m not sure any of us would want to relive those couple of days after the third task,” Cedric said quietly before Harry could protest again. “Especially not in a more permanent way.”

“The Order has also been looking into the missing Hogwarts students,” Forge added. “Though Cedric’s officially been taken off the list of missing kids. He’s not a minor, so he can’t be listed as missing.”

“Amos Diggory apparently pitched a right fit when the Wizengamot decided that,” Gred added with a sad look on his face.

“Maybe I should apparate to France or something and send him an owl,” Cedric suggested. “I don’t want them to worry, I just don’t want to be… there.”

“We get it,” Draco agreed. “None of us want anyone to worry.”

“But you have the right to be safe,” George reminded them. “Perhaps ask one of your graduated friends to send a message for you, if you really feel it necessary.”

“That could work,” Cedric mused thoughtfully. “They may or may not be believed, though.”

“What about through Gringott’s?” Hermione asked. “They have ways to verify identity, but they also won’t share what they know about their clients, even with the ministry.”

“It’s a valid idea,” Cedric noted. “I’d have to put on a glamour so that I’m not seen, but it could work.”

“That’s how we went, to establish with the Goblins that I’m not dead,” Harry offered. “It was strange, but we made arrangements with the bank in advance so a family arriving under glamours wasn’t challenged.”

“Smart,” Theo spoke up. “Not that we expected anything less from your family.”

“How’s your Mum dealing with Fleur?” Hermione asked Gred after sticking her tongue out at Theo. “Any change?” Both Fleur and Viktor had joined the Order after Harry’s ‘death’. When Fleur had met Bill, there had been an instant attraction between the two, to Mrs. Weasley’s severe disapproval. Harry had been rather surprised at hearing about her reaction. She seemed very much in favor of her children settling down and it had shocked Harry to hear she rejected Fleur.

“Not at all well,” Gred responded with a sigh. “Which is terrible for both Fleur and Bill, since it looks like they have a true mate bond forming between them.”

“Mate bond?” Neville asked.

“There’s veela heritage in Fleur’s family,” Luna explained. “Veela are capable of forming unique magical bonds to a single partner. It’s not well documented, but there are rumors that once such a bond is solidified, the veela partner loses some of their mesmeric qualities. In any case, if the bond is true, I expect they will marry whether or not Mrs. Weasley approves.”

“Mum’s problem isn’t that she disapproves of Fleur, it’s that she hasn’t realized that most of her kids have grown up. Even Perce is making noises about his rather serious girlfriend,” Forge pointed out.

Jean looked like she wanted to say something, but Harry beat her to it. “Keep in mind that Bill is twenty-five,” Harry reminded his Mum. Jean’s expression changed slightly, but then she just shook her head.

“I’ve known the Weasleys since I was really young,” Luna ventured, smiling a bit when the twins nodded. “I can’t help but wonder if it’s also partly that Mrs. Weasley didn’t have anything to do with bringing Bill and Fleur together. She’s the type that seems happier when in control of the events that involve her family.”

Gred and Forge made identical expressions of distaste. “I am  _ not _ letting Mum choose a girlfriend for me,” Gred said firmly.

“You might not be wrong, though, Luna,” Forge agreed.

“Could you trick her into thinking that it was her idea all along?” Draco suggested.

“Or maybe trick her into approving,” Theo added.

“Sometimes if I wanted something from my father and he refused to see things from my position, I’d get him to see the consequences of his inaction,” Blaise suggested. 

“How do you mean?” Hermione asked.

“Like, in this instance, Bill and Fleur could loudly have a conversation about where to raise the children - England or France,” Blaise explained. “If the Weasleys disapprove of the relationship and refuse to support them, moving closer to Fleur’s family makes sense. They’d understand that a bond simply isn’t something that they’re going to get over.”

The twins exchanged a glance. “We’ll talk to Bill,” they said in unison.

“I have to admit,” Harry said. “It’s going to be strange, not going to Hogwarts in a couple weeks. I’m almost going to miss all the chaos around the castle.”

“I’m not,” Hermione declared.

“You’re not?” the twins chorused. “It’s hard to imagine our little ‘Mione not missing school,” Gred continued on his own, his tone teasing.

“Oh, shove it,” Hermione grumbled. “You know I don’t like nicknames. I don’t have to miss school; we’ll be studying here. And I definitely will not miss being manipulated into life-or-death situations year after year.”

“I certainly won’t miss getting owled or flooed that one or both of my children are in danger again,” Jean agreed. 

“So… even after this whole thing with You-Know-Who…” Gred started.

“... you’re not letting Harry go back to Hogwarts?” Forge finished the question, a little dejectedly.

“Not if we have anything to say about it,” George agreed.

“And you’re okay with that, Harry?” Gred asked, shocked.

Harry shrugged. “Most of my mates are here,” Harry pointed out. “And even after we deal with Voldemort, we still have to deal with Dumbledore and the Ministry.”

“If Voldemort gets enough of his followers back together, even if he dies they might decide to continue on. Or someone else might try to step into his place,” Hermione pointed out logically. “I would guess that no one did the first time around because they weren’t sure he was truly gone.”

“The Dark Mark never completely went away, that’s true,” Theo mused. “Perhaps they thought if he were really dead, it would be gone or fade into non-existence. When it didn’t…” He shrugged. “It’s a reasonable theory.”

George’s face took on an expression of distaste. “I personally find it rather awful to listen to teenagers speculate about the machinations of power-hungry bigots.” He sighed softly. “At least now you’re all safe here, and out of the way of whatever battles are upcoming.”

“Actually, that’s an interesting thought, if you think about it,” Theo interjected. “Dumbledore basically designed an entire war under the assumption that Harry’d be able to fight in it.”

“And if the prophecy is true and I need to be the one to end Voldemort, should it be that I’m forced to wait until I’m of age, allowing other people to die, just because I’m ‘too young’?” Harry added.

Jean gave a heavy sigh. “If that’s really what has to happen, well… we’ll see, I suppose,” she said reluctantly. “But before we make those assumptions, I want to see what Sirius and Remus can find out - both about other horcruxes and about the prophecy. I will not have you risk yourself needlessly, Harry.”

“I don’t risk myself needlessly,” Harry objected, scowling. “There are needs that I risk myself towards.”

“Saving me isn’t a need, Harry,” Cedric corrected quietly.

“And you should never have been in a position where you felt like it was,” Jean said firmly. “Someone should have detected the magic on the Cup. Someone should have been with you, right there with you, through the whole tournament once it became clear that you’d been entered in order to make you an easier target. You’re barely fifteen, Harry,” Jean added, her voice softening. “You shouldn’t have to be in position to decide whether someone else’s life is more important than our own.”

Harry sighed. He felt so much older than fifteen. But he knew his Mum was coming from a place of love and she wasn’t ever going to understand that he simply couldn’t act his age. He’d seen too much not to try and protect other people from anyone or anything threatening harm. But this argument wasn’t one that he wanted to have in front of an audience. “Okay, Mum,” Harry conceded. 

Hermione shot a quick glance at her brother. She didn’t really believe the discussion was over, but it was also possible that a time would come when they’d have to take action themselves. Harry would absolutely not be going alone, in that case. But now wasn’t the time to bring it up.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to school. Ish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We loved all the comments to the first chapter! Hang onto your seats, folks, because we're just starting this train ride.

Big Sister Hermione

* * *

**Chapter 2 **

The summer wound to a close, despite everyone’s desire to stay on holiday forever. Before they knew it, September 1 was only a few days away. Not that the date affected those living at Potter Manor overly much, aside from knowing they’d need to start studying again soon. But it did mean everyone else would be headed back to Hogwarts. Katie and Fred came over almost every day, Viktor came over almost as often. The others gave Harry and Hermione a degree of privacy, knowing that in a few days, Katie would have to go back to pretending that her boyfriend was dead.

They’d made one startling discovery in that last week of summer. Theo had uncovered a sealed case in the back of the library; when asked about it, Sirius was able to unlock it for them. Inside, they’d discovered row upon row of bottled memories.

Harry was amazed to see memories of his relatives dating back over a thousand years. Marriages, births, significant moments in his family history were all contained within the tiny bottles. Each bottle simply had a number on it, and a scroll in the box’s lid explained each memory. 

Sirius lifted the two little handles on either side of the tray of memories and lifted, revealing another, then another, then another. “It’s got expansion charms on it. Every time a layer is used up, another layer appears. The scroll is similar; exactly as long as it needs to be to hold everything - or to add to it. This is the entire Potter family history, right here.”

Harry teared up, lightly touching the box. It was almost as good as what he’d seen in the Mirror of Erised all those years ago. The stories he should have grown up knowing. At least he’d know them.

When they finally reached a tray with the bottle that said ‘1’ on it, Harry checked the scroll, but was a little disappointed to see it was a wedding. But something caught his eye down the page. Bottle 36 - _ I. Peverell tells I. Peverell II true story of Invisibility cloak _. 

“Look at this,” Harry said. “I think it’s the real story of _ The Three Brothers _. Told by Ignotus himself."

“Look at number sixteen,” Draco pointed. _ T. Peverell loans S. Slytherin, H. Hufflepuff, R. Ravenclaw, and G.Gryffindor funds for wizard school _.

“James always liked this box,” Sirius recalled. “It’s the entire Potter history in one place.”

“I wonder what I should add…” Harry pondered. “There are so many to choose from. Like Hagrid telling me about my heritage, or finding a home… a family for the first time, or magically bonding with my sister, or seeing my other Dad after the Triwizard Tournament…”

“Why don’t you put in all of those?” Sirius suggested with a shrug. “We can do it later, if you’d like.”

Harry rolled the scroll down to the end. _ J. Potter marries L. Evans, L. Potter gives birth to H. Potter, _ and _ H. Potter first words _ were all entries. 

Hermione peeked at the scroll over her brother’s shoulder. With a glance around the room, she gathered up everybody but Harry and Sirius. “Come on. I think Harry needs some time alone to go through this. He can decide what he wants to share later.”

Harry shot her a grateful look, and the room emptied of teens who all wore looks of understanding and sympathy.

It was an emotional afternoon, for both Harry and Sirius. But worth the heartache to see what little of his parents was saved.

* * *

The next afternoon, Fred and Hermione walked through the orchards that backed the Manor gardens. They’d managed to escape the others, who wanted to get in “just one more match” at Quidditch before school started. Hermione outright refused to get on a broom, though, so Fred volunteered to keep her company. Without Hermione, they had an odd number of players anyway, so the pair were released with only a few grumbles.

Hermione walked quietly for a while. Fred looked like he had something on his mind and, unusually for him, wasn’t quite sure how to say it. She had her suspicions, of course, since they’d barely discussed Viktor over the past month. Given that Viktor had explained about his conversation with Fred while they were in Hawaii, Hermione rather thought she and Fred ought to talk about it as well. But it had never seemed like the right time, or there were far too many people around for what should be a private discussion.

“Hogwarts is going to feel pretty lonely without you there,” Fred admitted finally. “Well, all of you, but especially you.”

Hermione blushed. “Thanks.”

“I promise to come visit as often as I can,” Fred promised. 

“You don’t have to do that,” Hermione objected. “You’re going to be a seventh year. Everyone says that’s an incredibly difficult and pressurized year. I want you to do as well as you can on your NEWTs, even if you don’t use them.”

“Class has never been hard for me,” Fred bragged. “I don’t think it has for you, either.” He paused. “Has Viktor told you he’s going to continue to visit here?”

“Why?” Hermione questioned him nervously. “Are you… are you jealous?”

“Hopeful, actually,” Fred admitted. 

Hermione did a double-take, her eyebrows raised. “Wha- really?”

“It’s okay if you’re… if you don’t want to be with someone… like me…” Fred stammered, blushing hard and looking away. 

Hermione’s brow furrowed. “What, because you like more than one person too? Or because you’re bisexual?”

Fred flinched at the word, then pressed his lips together. “I wouldn’t use those words…” Fred said slowly.

Hermione frowned, regarding him with a little concern. “What would you call it, then?”

“I don’t really know,” he ventured. “It’s more… emotional, I suppose? Like…” Fred hesitated, not sure how to explain himself. Or how to make her understand, for that matter. “I guess for me it matters less what they are on the outside, and more who they are inside? If… if a person is special, then they’re special. Like you are,” he finished in a quiet tone.

“So you think Viktor’s special too?” Hermione asked Fred tentatively. Fred nodded, but didn’t speak. “Does Viktor know?” Another nod. “So we all have feelings for each other…” she sighed, her emotions swirling. She felt, not for the first time, caught between the muggle world and the wizarding one. In the muggle world, being in a serious relationship was considered dangerous, difficult. Most people thought teens were too young to be seriously in love. In the wizarding world, it was expected for you to settle down fairly quickly. She could see how serious Katie and Harry seemed, but then, Harry was, emotionally and maturity-wise, so much older than his years. She considered the same for herself, given what she’d been through. She also knew their parents didn’t necessarily agree.

“I know you don’t like trying things that you don’t have much control over…” Fred started slowly when she didn’t respond any further. “But in this case I’m hoping it’s worth the risk.”

Biting her lip, Hermione nodded thoughtfully. She had thought to herself that she didn’t know how to choose between them - she’d admitted as much to Harry, months ago, and to Viktor more recently. But now she was being given the option to _ not _ choose. To be able to have two wonderful wizards in her life, and to share them with each other as well. “I… I don’t really know much about… about how a relationship like that would work. But… I think… I think I’d like to try.”

Fred’s breath whooshed out of him in a rush of relief. “I’m glad to hear it,” he told her, reaching out to caress her cheek with his fingertips. “I don’t really know how it’s supposed to work, either, but I think we can probably lean on Viktor for that to some degree.”

“I think so. And if not… well, I guess we’ll have to learn as we go?” she offered, turning her face into his touch for a moment. “I kind of like having this as an option, you know? Viktor… he asked me what would I want to do, if nothing mattered but his love and your love for me, and mine for you. And I told him I wouldn’t want to have to choose between you.” She smiled, just a little. “He told me I wouldn’t have to choose, if that’s what I wanted.”

“I don’t think I ever expected to hear that from you, Hermione,” Fred replied in a low voice. “I know you care about me, but I don’t think you love me. Not yet.”

“You may be right,” she acknowledged. “But… I think I can. I just need some time. There’s something there...”

“You and Viktor are offering me more than I ever expected, when you started dating him,” Fred had an awed look on his face and he ran a hand over Hermione’s hair before cupping her cheek. He nodded. “I can give you time. You’re worth it.”

“Can I..?” Hermione took a half step closer, her arms lifting just enough to clue him into the question she didn’t quite ask. In reply, he opened his arms to her and let her step into them. Her arms settled around his waist as his folded around her back.

“Don’t know why you thought you had to ask,” he murmured to her.

She huffed a brief laugh. “Because it’s different this time,” she whispered. “I had to know it was okay.”

“Anytime,” he promised her. They stayed that way for a brief eternity, just enjoying the chance to be close.

* * *

Harry had a hard time transitioning into the school year, once their “classes” began. He heard from Fred that Katie had nearly quit the Gryffindor team when Angelina had half-heartedly set tryouts for a seeker and a keeper, which made him feel horribly guilty. It was clear that Katie was missing Harry’s presence. McGonagall had half-heartedly offered her Gryffindor Quidditch Captain, despite assuming that Katie would decline the position. Most people understood. To those out of the loop, Katie had just lost her boyfriend. To those in the know, Katie was juggling NEWT year on top of the fact that her boyfriend had been nearly killed the year before and had to be in hiding or else a murdering megalomaniac would kill him for real. Based on her letters sent via the twins, she was counting the days to her birthday so she could pass her apparition exam and visit Harry at Christmas.

Despite the difficulty presented by students of different ages and abilities, Remus, Fleur, Sirius, and Snape proved to be excellent teachers, even to those like Harry who were rather distracted. Their defense work was much more practical than theoretical, and history was expanded beyond the various Goblin Rebellions. Fleur came to the manor three days a week to help with teaching herbology, ancient runes and arithmancy. Sirius worked with everyone on transfiguration, including animagus forms for those so inclined - which everyone was, aside from Harry and Hermione, and they were only an exception because they’d already mastered their animagus forms. 

Snape had a free afternoon on Tuesdays, so he came then and also Saturday mornings to teach them potions. There was only a little grumbling about losing weekend time, though, because they had a lot more flexibility in their schedules than they would if they’d been at Hogwarts. All in all, it wasn’t a bad trade off.

During their free time, when they weren’t working on school work, they were making good use of the grounds and the Manor. Most of them were new to the concept of a healthy family dynamic, so it took them a little while to adjust to the Grangers, but for the most part everyone was pretty happy. But according to newspaper articles and reports from Sirius and Remus, tensions were growing outside. There were small attacks on small Wizarding communities around Britain, which were blamed on rogue Death Eaters, and Blaise’s father was even quoted in the paper to say that the kidnappings had been retaliation towards upstanding citizens of Wizarding society.

“Upstanding,” Blaise snorted when he read that article. “Yeah right, the only upstanding you know how to do is donating galleons to cover what a complete berk you are.”

Most witches and wizards believed Cedric and the others who’d gone missing were dead. Harry couldn’t blame them, honestly. It’d been over two months, and no one had seen nor heard from them. The fact of the belief was that they were dead did mean it took the pressure off everyone as far as staying inside the grounds went. They went on outings in small groups, mostly under glamour, to various museums and such. Muggle locations were a fair bit easier, but they still had to avoid being in recognizable groups.

During one such excursion to the Museum of History, Draco approached Harry. “How hard would it be to pass A-levels if I’ve never had any formal schooling?” he asked Harry.

Harry looked startled; it wasn’t a question he’d expected anyone to ask. “Challenging, I think,” he answered slowly. “But not impossible. Hermione and I might be able to catch you up, and mum and dad would help if you asked.”

“It’s the only thing I’ve had any interest in doing, to be honest,” Draco confessed. “And there’s something to be said…” he went a little pink. “It gets me far away from _ them _.”

“I understand that,” Harry nodded. “That’s why I said ‘yes’ to Hogwarts as quickly as I did. I think if I’d grown up at the Grangers, I would have had a harder time.”

“Did you have a hard time deciding whether to go to Hogwarts, Hermione?” Draco asked.

“No,” Hermione said, gaining a slight frown on her face like she did every time the Dursleys were mentioned. “But it took me a while to weigh out all the pros and cons. The muggle liaison office sent a representative and they explained that it could be dangerous if I wasn’t trained in some capacity. And once I started to do background reading on Hogwarts and the Wizarding World, I really wanted to experience it for myself. Not to say that I won’t want to go to Uni after I’m done with my NEWTs.”

“McGonagall said that if I go into the Air Force, I’d be the first in written history,” Draco commented idly. “To reject the family ways, that is.”

“You don’t have to completely leave our world, you know,” Harry corrected gently.

“I know,” Draco agreed. “It’s just the thought of…”

“Being safe? For good?” Harry suggested.

Draco nodded. “I mean, the Dursleys gave you up the second they could. My father would stop at nothing to keep me under his control.” It was true. Lucius Malfoy had been particularly vicious at chasing down every lead that could be found about where his son was, but there were few leads and none were accurate. 

None of the “missing” Slytherins had any connection known to Harry and Hermione, outside of the AA and those involved in its support. They were safe here, simply because there was no lead to follow. But if Draco joined the Air Force, he’d have a military organization to keep him even further from his father’s grasp.

When they got back to the Manor, Sirius was standing in the foyer looking a little pale. “We found one,” he announced a little stiffly. 

It took a second to register what Sirius was talking about. A horcrux, he realized. They’d found a horcrux. “Where?”

“My parents’ house,” Sirius explained, his expression pained. “Voldemort apparently asked my brother to help hide it, but Regulus double-crossed him. Kreacher claims to have helped Reg retrieve the hidden locket, which was in a bowl with an enchanted poison in it. You had to drink the poison, not just retrieve it with your hands. Reg barely made it back to the house before he died. He never had a chance to destroy the horcrux.”

“Is it destroyed yet?” Harry asked. 

Sirius shook his head. “There’s enchantment to it. We think you have to open it first. Which requires parseltongue.”

Jean, who’d gone with them to the museum, looked nervous. “Okay, but you pull him out the second his job is done.”

“Of course,” Sirius agreed.

“Hang on,” Harry objected. “I want to help destroy it too!” 

“Harry are you nuts?” Draco chastised. “Do you remember what happened the last time you destroyed a horcrux? This is dangerous.”

“Maybe we could try the basilisk venom before resorting to attempts to open it?” Hermione suggested. “If it works, we’d have a reliable method to destroy the others when we find them.”

Harry frowned. “I still want to help,” he insisted.

“Why don’t we research what else could be a horcrux in the library,” Hermione proposed. “If Uncle Padfoot or one of the other adults needs you, they’ll know where to find you.”

Harry sighed, but nodded. Draco looked relieved that Harry wasn’t going to argue further, at least for the moment. “I’ll help,” Draco offered instead. “I don’t remember reading about it when I had to research them… before. But if nothing else, that might help us narrow down where not to look.”

“I don’t mean researching in books. More… logic leaping,” Hermione said as they started towards the library. “We know Voldemort is Tom Riddle. We know he is a parseltongue, and a Slytherin.”

“We know he’s a half-blood,” Harry caught on. “His father was a muggle.”

“Seriously?” Draco drawled, disgusted. “For all his pureblood nonsense, he’s not even one himself?”

“Nope,” Harry confirmed grimly.

“That’s just…” Draco started.

“Ironic?” Hermione suggested.

“Yeah,” Draco breathed. “I wonder who his mother was…”

“I know parseltongues are rare,” Harry started slowly. “But how many have there really been, really, except those from the Slytherin line?”

Draco’s face became pinched as he thought hard about that question as they reached the library, “I don’t remember any, actually, at least not in England. I know the last of the Slytherin line died about sixty years ago. My father made me learn about it before I went to Hogwarts. The… oh what was the last name…. It’ll come to me.”

“So Tom Marvolo Riddle could be from the Slytherin line?” Hermione asked.

“Marvolo…” Draco froze. “Marvolo Gaunt. He was one of the last of the Slytherin line. He had a son… and a daughter… I don’t remember their names…”

“Would Theo or Blaise know, maybe?” Harry asked. “This could be something. If his middle name is his grandfather’s name… that’s not uncommon, is it?”

“No… a lot of pureblood kids are named for parents or grandparents,” Draco answered absently, still trying to rake his mind for the answers they needed. “Middle names, if not first names. Sirius’s middle name was his father’s first name. Orion Black.”

“And Marvolo isn’t exactly a common name,” Harry pointed out. “So assuming that Tom Riddle is from the Slytherin line, and his diary was a horcrux and I was accidentally made a horcrux…”

“What sort of things would he prize?” Hermione posed the question. “There’s the locket Sirius found; I wish we knew more about it, but maybe he can tell us later.”

“If he’s from the Gaunt line… they weren’t an extremely wealthy family, but they probably had a family ring…”

“Do most families have one? Do I have one?” Harry nearly demanded. He very much disliked knowing next to nothing about his own family. The memory chest was helping greatly, but he couldn’t absorb everything at once - much to his own frustration. They were going through it slowly, and he occasionally set things aside to share with the others. He shared things with Hermione, Sirius, and Remus most often, and Sirius had been helping him add his own significant memories to the chest.

“Yes,” Draco affirmed. “It’s probably in one of the family vaults.”

“So the family ring or some family heirloom is probably going to be a horcrux,” Hermione assumed. “Maybe something from each founder?”

“Not Gryffindor,” Draco and Harry said at the same time. They grinned at each other and high-fived.

“That’s four…” Hermione said slowly. “What would be the last one?”

The three of them thought hard. “It’s hard to say,” Harry finally concluded. “Possibly a gift of some value from one of his followers?”

“Or a relic from Hogwarts, maybe not from a Founder but from his time there?” Draco theorized. “He was a Slytherin, that much I know for sure. Perhaps something from the dungeons.”

“But if he was a Slytherin fifty years ago, who knows what sort of artifact he might have found? I doubt it’s still there, which means we’d need a teacher or someone who would know what might have gone missing,” Hermione pointed out.

“Professor McGonagall was a student back then,” Draco pointed out. “Maybe she could remember something?”

Both of them missed that Harry was not engaged in the conversation, thinking hard. He suddenly got up and started pacing. “I was a horcrux,” he muttered, chasing a stray thought. Draco and Hermione stared. 

“Harry,” Hermione started. 

“Shhh…” Harry shushed his sister. “I’ve almost… I was a horcrux… That dream last year wasn’t a dream. I was connected to him. That’s why I knew about Bertha Jorkins and the plot to kill me and the attack on the World Cup.” He paced a couple lengths of the library silently while Hermione and Draco watched him. “What was the name… what was the name…” He snapped his fingers, his eyes going wide as he stared at them. “I was a horcrux,” he exclaimed.

“We don’t understand,” Draco countered slowly, his brows drawn together. 

“Last year, I had a dream. One about Voldemort killing Frank Bryce and talking about the plot to kill me and how he’d tortured and killed Bertha Jorkins. We didn’t know why I dreamed that, we didn’t know why my scar hurt when Voldemort was at Hogwarts my first year, under Quirrell’s turban. It was because I was a horcrux.”

“Right,” Hermione agreed. 

“Except my dream didn’t start where Voldemort was, or from his perspective,” Harry explained slowly. “It started in the graveyard. I dreamed I was a snake. I don’t remember the name, but I was Voldemort’s snake.”

“And if it wasn’t a real dream, there had to have been a reason why you dreamed from the snake’s perspective,” Hermione caught on.

“We’ve already confirmed you can put a horcrux in a living thing,” Harry confirmed. “It’s the snake. That’s the final horcrux.”

“It’s going to be the most dangerous, then,” Hermione said with a sigh. “It’s likely also some sort of familiar, which means it’s both smart and loyal to him. It’s going to fight back.”

“It might also be as simple as killing the snake, though,” Draco offered. “If kill...killing Harry was enough to destroy the one on him…”

“I didn’t actually die, though.”

“But you also have a human soul of your own. If an animal has a soul in the same way, it’s probably also a little different. It might not work the same way. Or I suppose if we kill it in such a way that the body isn’t whole to return to anymore, maybe…” Hermione trailed off, doing her best to keep her emotions out of her thoughts. It was tough to discuss killing anything in a physically violent way, even if it was likely a horrible animal.

“So… poison it, burn it, or smash the whole thing somehow, or something like that?” Draco ventured, though he looked a little pale at the idea. “So the body isn’t whole, even if the snake has a soul of its own to try to return to the living?”

“Possibly,” Hermione agreed. “We might ask Neville about that.”

“Why Neville?” Draco was curious; it wasn’t meant to be insulting at all.

Harry grinned. “Because snakes are often a problem for gardeners and herbologists.”

“Oh!” Draco’s expression lit with understanding.

“Behead it,” Neville insisted when they tracked him down and asked him. “Depending on the size, a shovel is usually the fastest way to dispatch it. But there are spells to keep wildlife away from gardens, so most of the time you don’t have a problem.”

“Good to know. On both counts,” Harry said with a smile of thanks.

“I expect the elves have used them to keep pests out of the manor gardens, but you could probably get them to show you when they need to be renewed,” Neville explained with a shrug. “Or I can, if you’re interested.”

“We may take you up on that. Maybe in the spring?” Hermione suggested, knowing it would be hard for them to focus while trying to puzzle out information about the horcruxes.

“Sure.” Neville smiled. “So why are you worried about killing snakes?” Harry explained their reasoning to Neville, who accepted it with a nod. “Makes sense. You should maybe tell Professor Snape? He might be able to keep an eye out for snakes close to Voldemort. Actual ones, and not just his followers I mean.”

They shared a laugh at the comment and nodded.

“So… what next?” Neville said. “Assuming those are the seven horcruxes…”

“Uncle Padfoot and Uncle Moony are currently looking at the locket,” Hermione revealed. “I think they’re going to go to Uncle Padfoot’s family vaults after to check if there are any others at Gringotts. It’s a safe place to keep an heirloom.”

“After that…” Harry began.

“After that we get ready to fight,” Cedric said, coming in with Theo and Blaise. “We do whatever we can. Help in whatever way possible. Even if we’re not of age.”

“Against Voldemort, against the government,” Blaise determined. 

“A resistance. An army,” Theo retorted. 

“Potter’s Army,” Neville quipped. 

“Granger’s Army,” Draco countered, giggling. “Not just Hermione, but J-Jean and George.” Draco still struggled to call adults by their first name, but as they had insisted, Draco was trying. “In all seriousness, they were the ones who really started this. They took Harry in, which was what changed everything. If you think about it, if they hadn’t, Harry’d still be hanging out with Weasley, the AA never would have formed. Snape would never be a mentor to you two…”

“Granger’s Army,” Harry said fondly. “I like that. Plus, the name of the Resistance will be a muggleborn’s name, and not a half-blood who is a pureblood heir.”

“And so has a pureblood family name,” Theo finished, nodding his agreement. “I think it’s a good idea too.”

Much like Harry would over Potter, Hermione wanted to argue the name. But she didn’t think it would do any good at this point. Harry and Draco were right; there were many reasons to name it for her family. She just hoped that when everything was finally over, she could live with sharing the kind of fame Harry had - and likely would continue to have - in the wizarding world.

Still, if they could rid their society of pureblood bigotry, she supposed it would be worth it.

Cedric took one look at Hermione’s face and came over and hugged her. “We don’t have to,” he reassured her. “We can find an alternative.”

Hermione hugged Cedric back, but when she pulled away, she smiled and shook her head. “No, it’s okay. I’d… I’d like for people to recognize our parents, too. We may be a muggle family, but if we can drive a major change in wizarding society… that’s big.” She sighed. “Though I may have to have you guys hide me from those weasels at the _ Prophet _ when it all comes out.”

They all jumped when they heard a knock on the door. Sirius stood in the doorway, looking rather pale. “Harry,” he ground out. His voice was gravelly and strained, causing Harry to frown and look closely at his godfather. Sirius’ eyes were red and puffy. He’d been crying. “Come with me,” Sirius requested.

Harry glanced at his friends, then nodded and acquiesced to his godfather’s request. He assumed that they needed him to try and open the locket, though personally, Harry had questions about whether he could. 

Sirius led Harry into the room where he knew they’d designated to destroy the horcrux. He saw his Mum and Dad there with Remus who also looked like he’d been crying. “What’s going on?” Harry questioned nervously. The locket was on the table, looking rather scorched.

“We did it,” Sirius explained. “It took awhile, but we destroyed it.”

“That’s good,” Harry began slowly. “But if it worked, why does everyone look upset?”

“They fight back,” Jean said in a grim tone. She didn’t leave Remus’ side, comforting him with her presence. “The… spirit in the items… is as evil as the creator.”

“It projects emotions, and twists yours,” Sirius explained further. “Exploits your fears, hoping to freeze you into inaction. It tries to protect itself.”

“That sounds… horrible,” Harry murmured. It was definitely something they would need to take into account, if they were going to help get rid of the things. He’d have to tell the others right away, so someone would always be thinking about it even if he had other things on his mind. “Worse than a Dementor?”

“Much,” Sirius confirmed. “A Patronus wouldn’t help you against one of these things.”

Harry frowned deeply for a moment, then examined the locket. It was old, certainly an antique, with a snake in the shape of an ‘S’ on the front. “This could be Salazar Slytherin’s locket…”

“We thought so too,” Remus agreed, shaking off the memories he’d been assaulted with and came up next to Harry. “But we’d need an expert for confirmation. And we don’t know what it means, that the locket was a horcrux.”

“We might have an idea or two about that,” Harry began slowly. 

Once he brought the adults up to speed, he saw his Mum and Dad looking at him proudly, while Sirius was giving him a strange look. “It’s weird, watching the way your brain works,” Sirius snorted.

“Jealous, Pads?” Remus sniggered. “At least he has a brain, unlike you.”

“Oi,” Sirius objected. “I have a brain.”

“Yeah, but you don’t use it.” Remus shot back. “These kids do. Hermione has been a good influence on Harry, is all. Though I’m sure Jean and George help, too.”

“We just encourage them to be their best,” George shrugged, side-stepping any attempts to draw him into the bickering. “You’re all doing great, Harry. If you come up with anything else, please do let us know.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed quietly; he didn’t really know what else to say. It was one thing for his parents to praise his success, but it was something else for his parents and his uncles to all get in on it. He didn’t know how to deal with it, really. So he decided to change the subject. “Did all the Founders leave behind artifacts? If this is Slytherin’s locket, and Gryffindor’s sword is still at Hogwarts…”

“Rowena Ravenclaw wore a diadem in some of her portraits,” Remus mused thoughtfully. “Rumor has it, anyone who wears it will gain a measure of her wit and wisdom.”

“Statue in Ravenclaw Tower is wearing it, too,” Sirius recalled.

“Spent a lot of time in Ravenclaw Tower, Uncle Padfoot?” Harry asked, side-eyeing his godfather.

“You don’t wanna know, pup,” Sirius said with a bark of laughter.

Harry rolled his eyes, but still laughed. He might not want details, but he knew Sirius had a reputation as something of a playboy while at Hogwarts. While surely some of it was rumor and exaggeration, Harry knew most rumor was based in truth somewhere. So he wasn’t really surprised, just amused and a little disgusted. He really didn’t need to think about his godfather having sex.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, many thanks to our various readers and commenters. We love hearing from you!

**Chapter 3**

The next afternoon, a very important Order meeting occurred. Everyone, save for Remus and Sirius, gathered in the sitting room. 

James’ old two-way mirror had been enlarged, muted, and stuck above the fireplace at Potter Manor, like a television. Sirius had the other one, as he and Remus were at the Order meeting at his ancestral family home. Sirius had hidden his mirror in a spot where everyone could see the entire room, then cast a disillusionment on it. 

Jean and George had been cautious about exposing the teens to Order meetings, and lectured them that just because they were allowed information on the goings-on with the war effort did not mean they’d be allowed to act on it. 

“It’s not that we don’t think you’re responsible enough or old enough to fight,” Jean explained. “It’s that you’re young enough that you shouldn’t have to, even for those of you legally of age as wizards. We don’t want you to have to sacrifice your childhoods or your futures. Those are extremely precious.”

“You’re all still students, and your education should rightly be your priority,” George added. “There have been times in the past when students have had to fight in wars and, sadly, it seems possible that there will be a point where you have to choose whether or not you will be involved in this one. But that time isn’t now.”

“We understand,” Neville agreed on behalf of the group. “We just have grown up knowing everything through the AA. Professors McGonagall and Snape didn’t exactly hold anything back from us. Just because we’re in hiding doesn’t mean we want that to change.”

“Even if it’s ‘just-in-case’,” Blaise added. “Knowledge can be useful.”

There was a crashing noise on the mirror and everyone looked as Remus came in, helping a purple-haired witch who was limping slightly as someone started shouting. “Stupid umbrella stand,” the witch grumbled. 

“Are you all right?” Remus inquired, blushing slightly in a way Harry’d never seen his uncle look.

“I’m fine,” the witch said.

Moody came in shortly after with Dumbledore, speaking in low tones near the front of the room, opposite of the mirror. Another witch with dark brown hair slipped in wordlessly as the two pairs spoke among themselves. She sat near the back so that the group at Potter Manor could hardly see her. Remus glanced up at her and his eyes widened slightly in recognition, but he continued speaking with the purple-haired witch.

“That’s my Gran!” Neville exclaimed, and sure-enough an elderly woman in familiar-looking clothes entered and sat at the table. Worry seemed permanently etched on her face. “Oh… I never meant for her to worry. I wonder if I could reach out to her somehow. Let her know that I’m safe where I am.”

“We’ll get on that trip to Gringott’s,” Cedric agreed, looking strained as his father entered with Professor McGonagall. “We shouldn’t have left it this long.”

“I think they’re getting started,” Draco pointed out, distracting them all from guilty thoughts. Others had gathered in the mirror image while the teens had been sidetracked; Kingsley Shacklebolt, Arthur and Molly Weasley, and a few others had arrived and were seated within their view.

Sirius entered next, and all chatter ceased. He looked about as grief-stricken as he had the night Harry had died. “Black,” growled Moody in a sort of greeting. 

“Alastor,” Sirius replied, sitting next to Remus. His voice was despondent, making Harry’s heart clench. It was an act, but they had come so close to it being reality.

“Sirius, we’re so sorry for your loss… both of you,” Arthur said. “Harry was such a good friend to Fred and George over the years. I’m sure you know Harry had some trouble with our youngest son. Harry never held it against the rest of us. He was so kind and selfless. He deserved so much more than he was given.”

“Yes,” Sirius responded flatly, glaring at Dumbledore. “He did.”

Dumbledore cleared his throat uncomfortably. “As much as I can understand the need for this conversation. Harry’s death is not the topic of this meeting, or rather, not directly.”

“What are you talking about?” Remus asked suspiciously.

“Given Harry’s death before the defeat of Voldemort, there is some doubt coming from the Ministry and the ICW regarding whether Harry was the child the prophecy. After all, Neville Longbottom was also born within the time frame indicated. And while Neville is currently missing, he is, as far as we know, currently alive.”

“So what?” The brown-haired woman snapped. “We just pick up and move on? You guessed wrong? Oh well?”

“Miss Gladstone,” Dumbledore interjected cooly. “That is not what we’re implying.”

“This is war, Dumbledore,” Gladstone continued. “And you’re  _ guessing _ . You’re purposefully using children as cannon fodder. These are  _ children _ .” Harry noticed that Sirius had paled significantly when the woman had started speaking. 

“I understand that you are blinded by your grief -” Dumbledore started.

“Blinded by my  _ grief _ ?” Gladstone shouted. “You know me. You all know me. Have I ever been blinded by grief? When one of my best friends and her husband were murdered, and my nephew in all but blood was stolen away from me over some silly technicality, was I ‘blinded by grief’? When my fiancé was falsely accused of murder, locked away and I was barred from seeing him, was I ‘blinded by grief’? No, I wasn’t. I let it fuel me. I won’t let you blind me about this, either. These are children and using them as pawns is  _ wrong _ .”

“She knew my parents?” Harry whispered, listening to the unknown Miss Gladstone rip into Dumbledore. “My birth mum was one of her best friends?”

“Sirius was engaged?” Hermione was just as shocked as the teens learned about just one more thing he’d lost fourteen years ago. Jean and George exchanged a silent glance, but it was missed by the younger group. They all fell quiet again as voices spoke again from the mirror.

“What do you suggest that we do?” McGonagall asked.

“I think we need a plan of how to defeat Voldemort,” Gladstone replied. Several order members nodded, including Neville’s grandmother, albeit a bit hesitantly. “A real one, before he gains too much strength.”

“And you happen to have such a plan?” Dumbledore interjected, staring at her with a bland expression.

“No. But ‘send a child to defeat the darkest wizard since Grindelwald’ is also not a plan,” Gladstone snapped. “We need to isolate him, arrest his followers, cut him off financially, something! If we know he’s alive, we should start working now to stop him rather than waiting for him to begin attacking again. If we’ve waited that long, he’s already stronger than he needs to be. And he will be that much more difficult to defeat. People could die.”

“What happened with the Potters was an anomaly,” Moody pointed out. “We have no way of knowing what circumstances we’ll need this time around. Gladstone is right, we should prepare and be vigilant. None of this waiting around for them to strike first.”

“You ask me, they’ve already struck first,” Sirius spoke up, his eyes dark. “They attacked children and used them to bring back old Voldy. Harry’s dead because they struck first.”

“I’ll consider all of this. For now, we need to confirm the guarding schedule for the prophecy for the next two weeks in case Voldemort tries to go after it, additionally, keep your ears to the ground for any news of the kidnapped children. We should still be working under the assumption that it was the work of Death Eaters. Molly, Arthur have you heard anything from Xenophilius?”

Molly snorted derisively. “Xeno is convinced that his daughter isn’t missing and refuses to cooperate with anyone. All he’ll say about it was that he was planning on seeing her at Christmas.”

“Any signs of Imperius?” the purple-haired witch asked.

Arthur shook his head sadly. “Just Xeno being Xeno,” he revealed.

Luna grinned. “I told you Papa would keep our secret,” she giggled.

Slowly, the meeting ended, the calendar was signed off on by everyone and people started filing out of the meeting room until only Sirius, Remus, and Gladstone remained. The silence stretched out for several long minutes.

“I’m so sorry to hear what happened to Harry,” Gladstone said quietly. “I hope… I hope you got a chance to know him while he was alive. I wish I had.”

“I taught during his third year,” Remus told her in a low voice. “He has… had… James’ face and Lily’s eyes. His courage and her heart. You would have loved him, Ashe.”

“I should have fought them harder,” she continued in a tone laden with grief and regret. “At least tried to be a part of his life. I pushed half the department over your lack of a trial, Sirius. But they wouldn’t listen to me. And they were  _ wrong _ !”

Sirius finally raised his head, his eyes clouded with sorrow but there was hope there too. “You… you did?” he asked hoarsely. “They said… they told me everyone believed I was a traitor. Everyone. And when you never came… I thought…”

“They wouldn’t let me,” she sighed. “I didn’t know what had happened, but I knew you, Sirius. I knew how much you loved James and Lily, how precious you thought Harry was. You could never betray them, or me. They called me a fool, blinded by love. But I ignored them.” She reached around her neck and pulled on the chain revealing a small charm under her robes. With a wave of her wand, the charm became a ring. “I’ve never taken it off. And I never forgot what this means, Sirius. As far as I’m concerned that promise still stands.” 

Remus had a smirk on his face, “Told you so, Pads.” he said to his best friend.

Sirius sat there, stunned, for half a minute more. Then he leapt to his feet and rushed around the table to sweep Ashe into his arms. He kissed her long and hard. “I love you, Ashe,” he murmured. “I never stopped.”

Remus whistled at the reunited couple as they resumed kissing in front of him. “I think I’ll, um… just excuse myself,” he stammered before hastily retreating from the room.

Hermione quickly deactivated the mirror from their end when Sirius made no moves toward releasing his witch anytime soon. “Pretty sure he forgot we were watching,” she muttered, cheeks pink.

“Looks like we’ll probably be adding one more person to the security wards,” George commented in a conversational tone. “You kids will be getting a new aunt sooner than later.”

“I’ll go out and add her to the wards,” Hermione volunteered, exiting the room. 

“She’s…” Draco started. 

“Yeah,” Theo agreed, whistling low.

“Good for Sirius,” Blaise spoke up. “I hope they can work things out.”

“Not sure they’re going to be talking anytime soon,” Cedric chuckled. “They looked rather, er, preoccupied.”

“I would be too, if I were in their place,” Luna added idly. “I can’t imagine being separated from someone I loved for over a dozen years due to lies and false accusations.”

Harry was quiet and contemplative, as he usually was when it came to the subject of his past. From the look on Sirius’ face when he talked to Ashe, he finally saw the laughing man he’d seen so many times in the album Hagrid had given to him his first year. He tried to remember if he’d seen her in the photos, but didn’t think that he had. He was shaken out of his thoughts when he heard his Godfather’s voice. “Hello?” Sirius called, reactivating the mirror. Hermione walked into the room at the same time. 

“Hey Sirius,” Jean answered.

“We were wondering if the wards would allow Ashe through,” he asked.

“We’ve already added her to the wards,” Hermione confirmed. “If you trust her, we trust her.”

“We’ll be right there,” Sirius replied. 

“Do you want us here?” Draco asked Harry hesitantly. They all knew that Harry was a little sensitive about his family, and he was reeling a bit at the idea that there was another person about to enter his life who he should have grown up around.

“No,” Harry said distantly. He shook his head, trying to bring himself out of his stupor. “I mean no, stay. You’re family, I told you.”

Draco smiled warmly. “Brothers ‘til the end,” he agreed.

A bell rang, indicating someone had passed through the wards. “I wonder if he told her about Harry,” Hermione wondered slowly. 

The door opened, and most of the kids went over and peeked around the corner. “The place hasn’t changed,” Ashe was saying wistfully, looking around and not noticing the crowd of teenagers peeking around the corner. “So you’re hiding Harry’s guardians here?” 

“Sort of,” Sirius answered. “This isn’t a part of the Order, Ashe. Dumbledore doesn’t know that the Manor was reopened.”

“Why wouldn’t you tell Dumbledore?” Ashe asked in confusion. “Wouldn’t he want to protect Harry’s family?”

“That’s a long story,” Harry interjected, stepping around his friends.

“Harry,” Ashe breathed, a smile lighting her face. “Merlin, but it’s good to see you again. And not dead. Sirius told me that much, at least.” She started to step forward, then clearly checked herself. “Of course, you don’t know me. I’m sorry. I’m Ashe Gladstone; your mother was a very close friend of mine.” She held out her hand, visibly holding herself back and waiting for Harry to approach.

Harry stepped up and took her hand, shaking it briefly. “It’s nice to meet you, Miss Gladstone. I… I wish I’d known my parents’ friends when I was little; I’m sorry I don’t remember you.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” Ashe replied gently. “I’m just glad to meet you now. Though it’s a little surprising to see you here.”

“Like I said, it’s a long story,” Harry repeated with a sigh.

“Perhaps we should all sit,” Jean interjected, stepping around the teens and into the entry hall. “Please, do come in. Would you like some tea?”

“That would be nice. I’m sorry, though, I don’t recognize you, Madam.”

Sirius chuckled. “You wouldn’t, Ashe,” Sirius explained. “This is Jean Granger, Harry’s adoptive Mum in the Muggle world.”

“Granger? Isn’t that the name of the girl in the papers for going to the Yule Ball with Viktor Krum?” Ashe gave Sirius an assessing glance; he nodded and she took a deep breath, then turned back to Jean. “I definitely think tea is in order. You clearly have a great deal to tell me.”

Ashe’s eyes went wide and she paused in the doorway of the sitting room; Harry watched as her eyes tracked the occupants of the room and she came to the correct conclusion. “All the missing teenagers are here. You’re hiding them from their families?”

“Yes,” Jean agreed readily. “Please, join us. We’ll be happy to explain, but probably ought to start at the beginning.”

Sirius took Ashe’s hand and tugged her into the room. They sat together on a loveseat, and Sirius looked around the room with a grin. “Everyone, I’d like you to meet Auror Ashlyn Gladstone, my fiancée. Ashe, love, we’ll get you names for everyone you don’t recognize as we go. You probably can identify most of them anyway.”

“I can,” Ashe agreed after a moment. “Aside from the investigation ongoing regarding their disappearance, their families are well known.”

“We’re all here because we want to,” Draco said. “It wasn’t a kidnapping.”

“Can we… I’m sorry. Can we start from the beginning?” Ashe requested.

“We can,” Harry said. A tea tray popped into existence on the coffee table; Harry and Luna, who were closest, started passing cups around. “It all started with Hermione… in my first year.” He looked at his sister, who immediately started explaining what she observed in their first year. 

Ashe didn’t speak, though she definitely looked further and further disturbed. At some point she shot her hand out to Sirius’ and gripped it tightly. They worked through forming the AA, various members interjecting shortly with their own stories.

“I know you have no reason to care what I think,” Ashe said when they paused for a moment. “But I am so very proud of you all. Even with help, it’s not easy to break away from the ideas you’ve been taught to believe all your lives.” She and Sirius shared a significant look. “This proves there is hope for pureblood society yet.”

“I assume you’re not a pureblood, ma’am?” Luna asked bluntly. “Pardon me for saying so, but you don’t seem like one.”

“I’m a halfblood, Miss Lovegood,” Ashe clarified. “I grew up knowing both worlds, and I did go to primary school before Hogwarts.”

Draco’s eyes lit up. “Maybe you could help us study for A-levels, along with Mrs… I mean Jean and George?”

Ashe’s eyebrows rose almost to her hairline. “I never thought I’d see the day when a Malfoy asked about A-levels. Good on you, lad. I don’t know if I can help, but I’m willing to try.”

Their story was diverted for a few minutes while Draco went on a ramble about the Grangers taking the AA to the Air and Space Museum for their first venture into the muggle world. And how trying the flight simulators impressed him so much that he wanted to join the Air Force and learn to fly jets.

“I’m impressed,” Ashe commented with a smile. Then she sobered again. “So how did you end up hiding out here?”

The question got them back on track, and Harry began to discuss third year, when Sirius escaped Azkaban and Remus came to Hogwarts to teach. He hesitated for a moment, unsure if she knew about the Marauders Map, but Remus came to his rescue. He had slipped into the room during the initial round of the story.

“Ashe knows about the map, pup,” he said, resting a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “We’d lost it at Hogwarts by the time we told her and Lily about it, but they knew most of our secrets.” Remus went on to explain about Harry bringing him the Map, and seeing Pettigrew on it. The capture of the rat, and subsequent proof of Sirius’ innocence.

Sirius broke in to explain how he’d tracked Harry - and Remus, incidentally - to the Grangers’ over Christmas hols. And how shocked he’d been to receive an invitation to join the family, with open arms. Simply because Remus and Harry considered him to be theirs, or what was left of their first family at least.

Remus then took over and explained the threat delivered to Sirius and the attack on Harry. The room was near silent as Remus spoke about days and nights that Harry, quite honestly, barely remembered.

The teens all sobered when the story moved onto the past year and the Tournament. Though certainly not all of the year had been bad, the truly relevant part was what happened after the third task; Voldemort’s revival and Harry’s experience with temporary death. 

“I guess I don’t understand one thing,” Ashe said after they were all finished telling her about Harry’s story. “Who was Harry placed with? All Dumbledore would tell me was that he was safe.” Sirius avoided Ashe’s inquiring glance, making her glare at him. “You need to tell me. I deserve to know.”

“He was placed with the Dursleys,” Sirius whispered.

The reaction was immediate. Ashe stood, paling; simultaneously and unconsciously she grabbed her wand. Sparks flew out of it at an impressive rate as she stalked towards the floo. Remus and Sirius both stood to try to hold her back. “Let me go,” she cried. “He has to pay for that. He promised me Harry was  _ safe _ .”

Harry, thankfully was rather used to this reaction to revealing where he was sent, but it still comforted him that there were so many people that would have rather died than lived to see him sent to the Dursleys. “I know, Ashe,” Sirius said. “He  _ will _ pay. But we have to be smart about how to go about it.”

Ashe took a breath and glanced at Harry before looking down. “It broke her heart,” she said. It took Harry a moment to realize she was speaking to him. “She loved Petunia. It broke her heart that Petunia grew to despise her so much. And Vernon… well, let’s say there were a few… incidents… with Vernon that revealed how violent that man was and is. James and Lily went over to their house once, not long after the wedding and… Vernon tried to hit Lily. James convinced Lily not to try to contact Petunia ever again after that. That’s why in their will they stated explicitly that you were never to go to them. After they died…” she looked away from all of them, looking like she was fighting back tears. “After the end of the world as I knew it, I gave up fighting for you only because Dumbledore promised me you’d be safe. I called in every favor I had, between you and Sirius, but it didn’t do any good.

“After that, well, it wasn’t exactly easy being in England. So when Alastor suggested that I be assigned as the department’s liaison to the New Zealand MLE, it was an easy sell. I didn’t come back until Alastor owled me this summer, asking me to join the Order. I wanted to refuse, but, well, I owed him.” She gave a cold laugh. “I certainly wasn’t expecting all of this.”

Remus laughed. “No one expected what happened, Ashe.” He held his hand out to Hermione, and she took it, letting him tuck her into his side. “None of us could have foreseen this amazing young witch, and the changes she and her family would make to the way things always were.”

Hermione blushed, but still smiled. “All I did was write Mum and Dad, at first. They did most of the hard work in getting Harry away from his aunt and uncle.”

George grumbled for a moment. “Not that it was actually all that hard. There are moments when I seriously consider hating the Dursleys. But hate doesn’t solve anything, and they’re not worth my time. Jean and I have found it remarkably easy to care for these young witches and wizards.  _ They _ are worth our time, and then some.”

The teens all gained embarrassed looks or small smiles, still getting used to the open affection from the Grangers. It was one thing from Hermione, but something else entirely coming from her parents. Only Luna beamed openly, more accustomed to the family than the rest.

“Speaking of time, it’s only an hour until dinner,” Jean said. “I believe you all have some studying to do until then?”

“Yes, Mum,” Harry, Hermione and Luna chorused. The others all nodded. “We’ll be in the Library if you need us,” Hermione added. “But I’m pretty sure Uncle Padfoot and Uncle Moony can answer any questions Mum and Dad can’t.”

“I should really go anyway,” Ashe stated. “It’s almost time for me to go to work.”

“Working the night shift?” Sirius asked. 

Ashe waved her wand and her robes were replaced by robes that gave Harry the impression of professionalism. “It’s six in the morning in New Zealand, love.”

“Ahh, the wonders of jet lag,” Jean commented with a smile. “You’re welcome to visit anytime, of course, but please do so discreetly. I’m sure you understand why very few people know we’re here.” The two women exchanged nods.

“I’ll, um, I’ll walk you out,” Sirius offered hesitantly. He held out his arm, and relaxed when Ashe took it.

* * *

September sped by. Ashe came by any time that she could spare, even cutting back on sleep so that she could spend time with Sirius, Harry and the other residents of Potter Manor. She filled in a good deal of the stories about his mother after the times that Snape could tell Harry about. 

Harry also committed a large amount of his time helping Draco start to prep for his A-levels. 

“Hermione’s right,” Harry explained to Draco. “I understand things a lot better now that I can explain it and teach it to you. You’re helping me just as much as I’m helping you.”

“I’m glad we can work together,” Draco answered with a grin. “Once I get the hang of muggle maths, I’ll probably have to join Hermione and Theo in their English Literature studies. From what I’ve heard of their discussions, though, some of the books are just strange.”

Harry shrugged. “Probably a combination of historical settings and the cultural differences. Also, muggles have fairy tales and legends about magical creatures but don’t believe they’re real; they can make up some pretty crazy stories featuring them, though.”

“I just don’t understand all this stuff about variables,” Draco sighed, looking down at his paper. 

Harry frowned momentarily. “Let’s say… Let’s say you decide to fly from London to Hogwarts,” he suggested. Draco’s eyebrows drew together, but he didn’t say anything so Harry continued, drawing on a chalkboard Sirius had previously conjured for them. “The distance of your journey is represented by ‘x’ until we solve the problem, but that distance is dependant on one of two things…”

“The height I flew or the distance between London and Hogwarts on the ground,” Draco recalled.

“Exactly,” Harry praised, drawing each thing. “I think the distance between London and Hogwarts is about 450 miles, but how high you fly is going to change the equation.”

“See, that makes sense,” Draco agreed as he was able to get the correct answer for the problem in front of him. “I guess I’m not as good at theoretical application.”

“Before Hogwarts, I’d take the equations and apply them to cooking something in my head. I still do stuff like that, applying what I’m working on to the real world.”

“What are you learning right now?”

“I’m actually done with the standard maths requirements for the British public education system, so I’m doing some studying of in-depth differential calculus. However, after Christmas, I’ll probably start spending more time revising since A-levels are a year from now, and I want to get into a good Uni.”

Draco nodded. “We need three A-levels for that, right? What are your others? I think this, history and literature are the ones I want to work towards.”

“I’ll probably take literature with Hermione, but I was considering chemistry as my third. It’s like potions, but without magic,” Harry answered thoughtfully. “I like potions, and Mum says there’s a lot of chemistry involved in cooking and baking, so I think I’d do okay there too.”

“That makes sense,” Draco agreed. “I’m pretty good at potions, too, but Hermione thinks I’ll need to know world history in order to blend in better when I join the Air Force. So as long as I have to study it anyway, I might as well take the tests.”

“She’s probably right,” Harry said after a moment. “I like the stories involved in learning history, but memorizing dates and locations of events was never my strength. But even if I couldn’t tell you exactly when things happened, I probably know more about history than I realize.”

“I know a lot of wizarding history; it’s part of growing up with a traditional family. But we’ve clearly missed so much of what was happening outside our own little world…” Draco trailed off with a shrug.

“You’re learning it now, and that’s the important thing,” Harry offered.

“To be honest, it makes the statute of secrecy a little… ridiculous,” Draco opined.

“Wait… what?”

“Well, think about it. Wizards and Witches made that Statute during a period of history when muggle witch burnings were frequent and often incorrect. Hiding was the  _ logical _ thing to do. But now, muggles have advanced in some ways well beyond our own society. If the Grangers are representative of Muggles in general, then people are starting to become more accepting. I’m not saying the world is ready for us  _ now _ , but it’s going to be something to think about over the next fifty years or so. We could potentially see this sort of drastic change to our society within our lifetime.”

“That’s going to be an interesting thought…” Harry trailed off. “I don’t really know if our family is a good representation of Muggles as a whole, though. There are still people out there like my aunt and uncle, too. People who are afraid of anything different. I dunno, mate. Maybe we should discuss it with the whole family, once things settle down a bit?”

Draco paled. “On second thought, maybe that’s something we should discuss once we fix the wizarding world. It was just a stray thought, but the thought of people like my father in the muggle world...”

“Yeah. On the other hand, it’d be nice to make the wizarding world answer for the damage they do to Muggles and not just obliviate everyone who saw something inconvenient,” Harry added.

“I mean, I understand why they do it,” Draco said. “It’s because most wizards think Muggles aren’t smart enough to handle the idea of magic. Even those like the Weasleys believe that obliviating them is doing them a favor.”

Harry shrugged. “In some cases, it might be. I mean, I wouldn’t mind having memories of, oh, maybe Dementors taken from me if I didn’t need to know how to defend against them. But if you think about it, memories are what make us who we are. And to take memories away from a person is a form of violation. Even if it’s done with good intentions, that doesn’t make it right.”

“I… suppose I hadn’t thought of it that way,” Draco mused. “What Lockhart did, or tried to do, to us was definitely not right. But that affected us directly. I suppose in the abstract, and especially with muggles, I always just thought about it as part of keeping the Statute.”

Harry nodded. “I understand, and I can see how many people would think that way. It’s easier to accept in the abstract than when it’s personal.”

“But the Statute basically means that it’s never personal with muggles, unless they’re the family of a muggle-born - and even then, it’s not personal for most of the traditionalists or blood purists.” Draco sighed. “Our world really is a mess, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. But we don’t have to try to fix it all; some of it may take decades or even generations to correct. Maybe we just have to start the process, make things better for our kids, and let them continue the job in their turn.”

“I suppose it is a lot to ask the wizarding world to change its thinking so rapidly,” Draco conceded. “And I suppose it’s unfair since there are more good wizards who are simply ignorant than bad wizards.”

“Well, we fixed you lot,” Harry teased with a grin. “Maybe that’s really the best place to start; informing people who simply don’t know better. Even for them, it will be a challenge to the way they think, but they’re at least likely to be more open to the idea.”

“We’re really going to have our work cut out for us, once the war is over and we’re adults, aren’t we?” Draco groaned. “But it really will be up to our generation. What’s that quote Hermione likes so much? ‘All it takes for the triumph of evil’...?”

“‘The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.’ A bloke named Burke, I think,” Harry answered.

“Well, at least after all we’ve done and everything we want to do, no one will ever be able to say that we did nothing.” Draco chuckled.

“The quote I like is the one by Alexander Hamilton, the American revolutionary - ‘Those who stand for nothing fall for anything.’”

“I like that too,” Draco agreed. “And it’s extremely true for Wizards. And I know where we stand. And as long as we stand together, we could win.”


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

**Chapter 4**

Time passed. Fred and Viktor coordinated their visits as much as possible, and came ‘round at the same time so the three of them could go on dates together. It had been awkward at first, but the three of them seemed to balance each other out more and more with each passing day.

Meanwhile, Harry and his friends couldn’t believe how easily they all adjusted to a calmer school year than they were used to. While they certainly helped the adults with the war effort, mostly they studied, flew within the Quidditch Pitch, and played games, enjoying life as normal teens. 

Though the  _ Daily Prophet _ couldn’t deliver to the manor, between Sirius, Remus and Ashe, the household had regular access to several copies. Not that anyone enjoyed reading the articles it published. It was full of Ministry propaganda, assuring the public that there was no threat and everything was under control. It wrote off Death Eater activity as common crimes, too, although Ashe knew better, and reported so to the newly formed ‘Granger’s Army’. Unfortunately, the Aurors had yet to actually catch any of the Death Eaters in the act.

It frustrated them all, to no end, but the handful of people who did try to make people see reason were always shot down and made to look ridiculous whenever possible. So, for the moment, Ashe kept her opinions to herself, as did most of the Aurors who believed Voldemort was back. She did transfer from New Zealand back to England, citing Sirius’ innocence and her nephew’s murder as the reasons. They let Moody take the brunt of ridicule, which was nothing at all new for the old and paranoid Auror.

Not long into the school year, the headline of the  _ Prophet _ shocked them all. ‘ _ Diggory Killed Potter? _ ’ read the headline. The article was an outlandish theory that made Harry’s blood boil. There were no facts within the article, no evidence, and yet the journalist theorized that Cedric had killed Harry and kidnapped the missing AA members.

Some of the family thought it was rather funny, but Harry was furious. “How can they just…  _ lie _ like that? I mean, they’ve been lying about me since the beginning, but this is really coming out of left field. There’s no evidence that anything  _ close  _ to this happened. And whatever happened to Cedric’s statement that Voldemort had returned? They’re just going to bury their heads in the sand and pretend that we’re not on the brink of war.” Harry scowled. “Cowards,” he spat.

Everyone who’d been at the breakfast table blinked at Harry. It was rare for him to get angry at all, and here he was, ranting about the paper. After that, the adults were careful about keeping copies of the  _ Prophet  _ around. They were trying to keep Potter Manor as low-stress as possible, which was a challenge they had all prepared for.

Before Harry knew it, it was Halloween. Harry had been idealistically hopeful that it wouldn’t be so bad this year, but instead, he’d had nightmares every night in the week prior. Harry didn’t remember much of the nightmares, but he remembered being separated from his family and being unable to get back to them. He didn’t know which family he was trying to get to, only that something evil was trying to get to them too. He woke up screaming every night. After the second night, all the adults took to sleeping in Harry’s room and silencing his walls as to not interrupt everyone else’s sleep. Hermione had tried to stay, but Jean had put her foot down. 

“You’re a growing girl and you will be getting a good night’s sleep, Hermione Granger,” Jean had said, and that was the end of the argument. 

Which was why, on Halloween, in the early hours, Harry sat up like a shot, sobbing, straight into his Mum’s arms. “It’s okay, love,” she comforted softly. “I’m here. I’m here.” George was sitting just behind him, stroking his hair soothingly until Harry calmed down, then resting his palm on the crown of Harry’s head so Harry knew that George was there. 

“Do you always get nightmares like this?” Sirius asked concernedly.

Harry nodded quietly. “They’ve been getting better since I got adopted, but the week of Halloween they’re especially bad. Even before anything bad happened to me at Hogwarts, I would dream about the Avada Kedavra that killed my first Mum,” he explained, rubbing at his eyes. “It subsides after the holiday. Please don’t feel obligated to stay in here every night.”

“Psh,” Jean dismissed that last comment with a wave of her hand. “We’re your parents. Of course we’re going to be here when you need us. That’s what we do.”

Harry sighed, but nodded. It never seemed to matter how much he protested, they wouldn’t leave things be. On the other hand, there was still a part of him that treasured knowing he’d never have to face anything alone again. 

Sirius smirked. “Did Hermione sneak up to your dorm during this week when you were at school?”

Harry blushed a little. “Usually. Or sometimes we’d stay in the common room.”

“Kids,” George scoffed, but his tone was teasing and his expression was more proud than anything.

Harry had just started to fall back asleep when a shrill scream came from further down the hall. He bolted upright as Jean and Remus almost flew out the door; George and Sirius stayed with Harry, making sure he was all right. But as fast as Jean was, Hermione still beat her to Luna’s room. She’d been much closer, though, since the girls’ rooms were next to each other.

“No, no, no,” Luna sobbed, clutching tightly to Hermione. “He’s hurt. He’s going to die.”

“Who’s going to die, Luna?” Hermione asked, rubbing gentle circles over Luna’s back.

“Mr… Mr. Weasley,” Luna stammered out.

“Where?” Remus asked, moving into the room quickly. 

Jean circled the bed and sat on the other side, tugging both girls into her embrace. “Luna, little love, breathe for me. Nice and slow. In and out.” Jean soothed the distraught teen.

Recognizing that they needed to get Luna calm before she could make sense to them, Remus knelt on the floor. “Breathe with me, Luna. Deep breath in, pause, then out again. Good girl,” he told her after they repeated the exercise a few times. “Can you tell us about your dream?”

Luna shivered. “It was… it was in the Hall of Prophecy. Mr. Weasley was there, but this giant snake struck at him from the shadows. He held it off for a bit, but I’m pretty sure he was poisoned.” She blinked huge blue eyes at Remus, then at Jean. “I think it’s tonight. Maybe even now. It’s not just a dream, I know it’s not.”

Sirius and Remus shared a look. “I’ll go alert Dumbledore,” Remus stated, then started off. “Arthur was on guard duty tonight.”

Harry knew Order members were guarding the prophecy Snape had told them about in his second year. He didn’t really care about it too much, because what his Mum and Dad had said was right - just because the prophecy said Harry had the power to defeat Voldemort didn’t mean that he was the one who had to kill him. 

“How badly was he bitten?” Sirius asked softly. Jean glared at him.

Luna took a deep, shaky breath. “I think… he looked like he was dying,” she whispered. Tears slipped down her as Jean held her tightly.

Harry felt his heart clench. He didn’t like sticking to his promise to his parents when stuff like this happened, and he knew it was going to happen more and more often. 

“Someone will get to him in time,” Hermione offered with an expression of hope. “You’ve warned us, and we’ll warn the Order. Uncle Remus is doing it now.”

Since it was very early, Sirius conjured more cots in Luna’s room so everyone could stay. No one was sleepy though, and sensing they were needed, the house elves quietly delivered a platter of strawberries and cream and a refilling pot of tea with enough cups to go around. Jean made sure to serve Luna a cup first, who was still rather shaken. 

“Do you think it was  _ His _ snake?” Theo finally asked.

Luna nodded. “Normal animals, even magical ones, don’t hate. They can feel fear, anger, be protective or hungry. That snake… had hate in its eyes.” Her tone held a haunting quality, and she snuggled deeper into Hermione’s side while Jean was occupied with tea. She hadn’t let go of the older girl, and Hermione was content to remain seated against the headboard beside her friend.

“Well, that’s just grand,” Draco huffed sarcastically. Theo bopped him over the head with a pillow. “Oi!”

“He’s not entirely wrong,” Blaise spoke up. “Even familiars don’t typically hate people, they’re just extremely protective of their chosen person. So we have a malevolent, venomous snake, that’s now attacking people.”

“It’s possible that it’s so loyal to Voldemort that it has taken on some of his characteristics,” Harry suggested.

Jean and George exchanged a glance, listening to the younger generation calmly dissecting the situation. Jean closed her eyes and let out a slow breath as she realized, like it or not, these children were already involved in the war. Luna’s visions, Harry’s knowledge from his late father, knowledge from Dark families held by Draco, Theo and Blaise… they were involved and she couldn’t stop it. 

There was a small part of her that wished Hermione had never gone to Hogwarts, but then they would have never found Harry, and deep down, she knew that she could never give that up. He had certainly captured her heart early, especially since she finally had someone else in the family who actually enjoyed being in the kitchen for more than just holiday baking. But being involved in war, especially with Harry as a target, came with risks. The thought of losing him again… even the scant half-hour before Hermione revealed he was alive, Jean’s world had ended. It was a pain she hadn’t thought possible, and the idea of him dying for good, forever… it gave her an urge to lock Harry and Hermione in a room forever. A monster was after her babies. How could she let them fight him? 

But Jean also knew that Harry and Hermione were more equipped than most to fight. They worked well together, cohesively, and made some truly incredible leaps in logic which had allowed them to work out most of the things that had been hidden from them. 

Harry looked pale as the others moved in to comfort Luna, standing awkwardly off to the side. “Harry, darling, what’s wrong?” she asked quietly. 

“I guess… I guess I wish I was out there. I don’t like other people being hurt.”

Jean gathered Harry into her arms so that he rested his chin on top of her head. “I know you don’t, sweetie. I can't promise that it will be okay, but I do promise that I love you. We all do.” She sighed softly. “I know it’s hard, but you can’t be everywhere and save everyone from being hurt.”

Sirius flicked his wand and cast a silencing spell as he joined them. “Even if you’d all been at Hogwarts, you’d have been at school and asleep,” Sirius reminded them. “This isn’t something you could’ve prevented.”

“I guess,” Harry assented reluctantly. “It just seems like a lot of people are or could be hurt, when he’s really after me.”

“He’s only after you because you survived the first attack,” Sirius corrected. “You’re in the way of his plans to dominate the wizarding world and live forever. But if it weren’t you, it would be someone else. And if it weren’t someone else, he’d still be attacking people. He started the first war long before you were even born, Harry. He’s just one of those people for whom power is everything, and he’ll do anything to have it all.”

“People  _ could _ be hurt, Harry,” Jean added. “You’re old enough that I’m not going to lie to you about that. But you’re not forcing anyone to fight in this war, Harry.”

“Most of the Order was fighting against Voldemort before you were born,” Sirius pointed out.

Harry nodded. “Okay,” he conceded.

“And before you can think it, you did not pull us into this war. We joined willingly, both because it’s the right thing to do and because it’s threatening people we care about. Not just you, but Hermione, Luna, all your friends, and their families,” Jean stated firmly. “We’re fully aware that Hermione would’ve been targeted by these people, simply because her father and I aren’t magical. That has nothing to do with you either, son.”

Harry nodded. “I know.” He paused. “Dumbledore is going to figure this out, isn’t he.” He couldn’t help but feel upset that Dumbledore was going to find out about his family. He couldn’t help but feel fear that Dumbledore would force him back to the Dursleys.

“Probably,” Sirius confirmed. “At least enough of it that we might as well come out with all of it.”

“And he’s going to get a piece of my mind,” Jean growled. “Dumbledore isn’t getting near you.”

“Can’t wait to see it,” Sirius laughed. “And I’ll pensieve the memory so the kids can all see it after the fact.”

“Maybe we should go to Grimmauld Place,” Harry said. “I… I don’t know how I feel about Dumbledore being here. This is a safe space for a lot of us and I don’t want anyone violating that.”

Sirius shared a look with Jean, and they seemed to be considering the proposal. “I guess we can do that. Floo there.” Sirius lifted the silencing charm and Harry looked over at his sister and their friends who were now talking intensely. When they spotted Harry, they immediately stopped talking.

“We’re going to be taking Harry over to Grimmauld Place for the day,” Sirius revealed. 

“You’re going to face Dumbledore?” Hermione asked. Harry nodded. “We’re coming too.”

“That’s not a good idea,” Jean argued.

“To you, maybe,” Draco said. “But Harry’s a member of the AA, and that means we’re stronger together.”

“And family forever,” Hermione recited.

“I think at this point, we all have things we’d like to say to him,” Theo offered. “He may be impartial as headmaster in theory, but his own behavior encourages House prejudice. If it were up to him, I don’t think any of us would have been friends across House lines.”

The other Slytherins nodded. “Professor McGonagall has always been strict, but fair despite being head of Gryffindor. Professor Snape favors Slytherin over the other Houses, but part of that is to counter other staff who are more biased against us,” Draco clarified. “In our very first year, Slytherin should have won the House Cup… except that in the last few minutes before the Cup was awarded, he gave out a bunch of points to Harry, Hermione, Neville and Weasley. They may have deserved recognition, but the way he assigned them out so that Gryffindor beat Slytherin by ten points at literally the very last moment… well, I think everyone but Gryffindor hated him at least a little that day.”

“If you’re there, Mum, then I might as well be too,” Hermione pointed out. “He’d expect that. Maybe we don’t all need to confront him all at once, but I think we’d all like to be there. To listen in, if nothing else.”

Jean swept her eyes around the room and saw the nods and earnest looks on all the teens’ faces. “I suppose if we’re going to tell him the truth, having you all there to speak for yourselves if needed isn’t the worst idea,” she relented. “But I  _ will _ be talking to him first.”

“I think we’re mostly happy to let you talk to him for us, Mummy Jean,” Luna chimed in. “I really do think it has been far too long since the Headmaster has been scolded by a mother. It should be fun to hear.” She grinned, fear from her dream set aside for the moment.

“Okay then,” Sirius said. “Everyone get dressed and we’ll leave after breakfast.”

After breakfast, they all went to Grimmauld Place. Harry was surprised when he stepped through. The walls were white and there was lots of sunlight coming into the room, over a large sink was a giant window that looked out over a large lawn, which must have been magic since he knew Grimmauld Place was in London. A wide staircase with a low stone arch went up into what appeared to be a large, cheery sitting room with a huge stone fireplace and plenty of places to sit. Harry looked questioningly at Sirius. 

“Fleur redecorated after one look at my mother’s house,” Sirius said with some degree of amusement. “Lots of white walls and comfortable furniture throughout the whole house. And Wizard paint changes colors in case anyone wants to redecorate.”

“It’s often used in nurseries and children’s rooms,” Bill said, coming into the room. “So they don’t have to be completely repainted for a boy or a girl, generation to generation. Welcome, everyone. I wasn’t expecting to see you all here.” Because Bill was dating Fleur, he’d been told the truth about Harry and the missing teens early in the summer. He’d come over a few times, at first to hear the story, and then to hang out some.

“How’s your father?” Luna asked anxiously.

Bill gave her a smile full of gratitude. “We got your warning in time, little Seer,” he told her gently. “He was brought to St. Mungo’s, but he’ll be fine.”

“I’m so glad,” Luna beamed.

“Wish him well for us, please,” Jean added, resting a hand on Luna’s shoulder.

“Of course. But what brings you here? I doubt you all needed to come to check up on Dad.”

“In sending Remus over to alert people, we’re pretty sure Dumbledore’s going to figure out that we know where Luna is,” Sirius explained. “And Harry figured if he’s going to figure part of it out, we might as well tell him the whole thing.”

Bill whistled low. “The  _ whole _ thing? That’s going to be… quite a lot.”

“We didn’t want to do it at the Manor,” Harry added. “So we thought we’d come here.”

“I guess that’s fair,” Bill agreed. “Neutral ground. Well, is anyone hungry? Dumbledore has a couple of the Hogwarts house elves staying here to help out with anything the Order might need during meetings or what have you. Fleur’s currently out fetching the twins, Ron, and Ginny from the train so that Mum can stay at St. Mungo’s with Dad. And Percy’s apparently doing some last minute Christmas shopping with Charlie that couldn’t wait.”

Something in Bill’s tone piqued Harry’s interest as Bill waved his wand to extend the kitchen table to accommodate everyone. He looked sharply at Bill. “Why? What is he shopping for?” 

“A ring,” Bill said with a grin. “Don’t tell Mum, she doesn’t know. I think Perce is afraid she’d do something to intervene.”

“What did I tell you,” Sirius said to Jean. 

Harry wasn’t entirely sure what that was about, but he was too distracted to care. “That’s great!” Harry exclaimed. “Penny’s really nice, from what I remember.”

Bill nodded. “She is, and she really likes Fleur. It’s nice that Fleur will have an ally in the family.”

“Not getting any easier?” Draco asked as the house elves came over with a platter of scones and a stack of mugs with a teapot. 

“Unfortunately, no,” Bill said with a tired sigh. “But I really love Fleur. Mum will just have to come around.”

Hermione poured herself a mug. “Unfortunately, as much as we love, we can’t force anyone else to love.” 

The door jingled somewhere upstairs. “That’ll be Fleur,” Bill said. 

Harry put a hand on Draco’s shoulder. “If things go bad, you’ve got a large group of people behind you,” he said, feeling the tension start to roll off Draco.

Draco nodded once, hard, but didn’t say anything as Bill went upstairs. “Hey gang,” Bill greeted. “There’s some people downstairs you might want to say hello to.” 

They all heard footsteps - some fast and some slower. “Hey, it’s you guys!” the twins greeted, hugging those who enjoyed it and fist bumping those who didn’t. Fred lingered with Hermione a little longer than anyone else. She hugged him back with a small smile.

“What. The. Bloody. Hell,” Ron breathed when he got to the bottom of the stairs. “Who is that?”

“It’s Harry Potter!” chorused the twins. They looked at each other, sharing a grin.

“Back from the dead,” Gred said.

“One night only,” cackled Forge.

“Really, I was only  _ mostly _ dead,” Harry cracked. The AA, who’d been shown  _ The Princess Bride _ , broke out laughing. None of the adults laughed, nor did Hermione, though Harry didn’t really expect them to. But still, it was easier for him to make light of it rather than focus on the bad parts of the joke. It did what it was intended to do, since Draco, Theo, and Blaise all relaxed a good deal.

“I meant what are  _ they _ doing here?” Ron asked, pointing at the aforementioned Slytherins. 

“They’re with us,” Neville said succinctly, crossing his arms and standing up. “And we’re with Harry. All of us.”

“But you two  _ hate _ each other!” Ron didn’t look mad, just very confused.

“Of course we don’t,” Neville objected. “Draco’s the reason why I’ve been doing so well in Potions.”

“And Neville’s why I’m doing well in Herbology,” Draco added. “Personally, I think he’s going to make a really great Professor one day.” Neville colored at the compliment, as he did every time someone complimented his skill at a subject.

“And Draco’s my best friend,” Harry declared. “Proving that first impressions don’t always count.” Draco let out a laugh and his grin grew larger. “If he goes, I go.”

“All of us are friends,” Hermione said. “We’ve been friends since second year.”

“Second year! You mean you dropped me for  _ them _ ?!” Ron’s face turned redder than his hair, but the group stood their ground. Hermione reached for Luna’s hand, and they twined their fingers together. Gred stood behind Hermione with an arm around her shoulders, while Forge backed Draco and Theo. Gryffindor and Slytherin stood shoulder to shoulder, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff interspersed, ready to defend their friendships.

“Not at all,” Harry responded calmly. “We could have been friends with you  _ and _ them. It never had to be one or the other. We ‘dropped’ you, as you put it, because you couldn’t keep your temper in check and continually called Hermione nasty names - both to her face and behind her back. Though honestly, I’d argue that we didn’t drop you at all.  _ You _ dropped  _ us _ .”

“Oh like they didn’t grow up casually using the ‘M’ word while hanging around their Death Eater families.”

Twin spells shot out of Gred’s and Forge’s wands. Duct tape appeared to fasten itself across Ron’s mouth and a dunce cap plopped onto his head. “You don’t know what you’re talking about Ronald,” Gred said. 

Jean opened her mouth, then reconsidered and closed it again. Her time would come to have her say. She and George, along with Sirius, simply stood behind the group of students they called family, wearing looks of approval.

“Remember Ron,” Bill advised. “You need to check your temper. Did you count to ten?” 

Ron rolled his eyes, but paused and then shook his head. He started breathing slowly, in a measured cadence Harry was familiar with from therapy. The red in his face started to drain out of it; as Ron relaxed, he signaled something to the twins, who removed the spells. “Sorry,” he muttered, scuffing his shoe on the floor as he stared down at it. 

Ginny looked like she, herself, had slipped through the Looking Glass. Her eyes darted from person to person, then between Ron, Bill and the twins as if one of her brothers might suddenly be able to force the scene before her to make sense. “What the bloody hell is going on here? What the hell  _ happened _ to you all?”

“That,” came a grave voice. They all whirled around to see Dumbledore standing at the foot of the stairs. Remus was behind him, as were a small group of other Order members - including Ashe, Snape, and McGonagall. “...is a very good question.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We know we're a day late. Yesterday was Labor Day in the US, and we both had other plans. We got on this as soon as possible today, though.

“It’s a very long story,” Harry said evenly, his eyes darting between his parents. “Perhaps everyone should sit down.” Now that they were in front of Dumbledore, Harry was suddenly at a loss for how to start. In front of all these virtual strangers, he was supposed to admit to what the Dursleys had done to him?

“I suppose it began, Albus,” McGonagall started, “with the fact that I warned you that leaving Mr. Potter with his relatives was an awful idea.” Dumbledore stared at his Deputy in shock, which quickly morphed into a look of anger.

“And you didn’t consult anyone about it,” Ashe added, before Dumbledore could voice his anger.

“And you lied to everyone who cared about Harry,” Remus agreed.

“The blood wards…” Dumbledore started.

“It isn’t time for you to talk,” Jean snapped suddenly. “No one in this room is looking for an explanation or excuses from you. You left him with people who hate magic. Who hate  _ him _ . There is no excuse for that.” She turned to Harry, her voice gentling in the next heartbeat. “Go on, dear.”

The outburst from his Mum was embarrassing, but somehow made it easier for him to start speaking. He glossed over life at the Dursleys, highlighting certain things like living in a cupboard under the stairs, or how he was treated worse than most house elves, or the fact that he’d been told repeatedly that he was an orphan because his father’d been drunk and gotten himself and Lily in a fatal car accident. George gave an explanation to all those who had confused looks on their faces. 

“And then I got my Hogwarts letter,” Harry continued. “And I thought that there could be a place where I could be… just Harry. That I could be measured on my own merits. But all that came crashing down when I found out how my parents really died, and how I was the most famous wizard in all of England. It’s a lot, you have to understand, to place on an eleven-year-old who’d just learned that magic exists.”

He continued on, talking about how he’d spent the first half of his first year trying to fit into everyone’s expectations for him, while some habits, such as his habit of not showing up people with his intelligence, were too hard to break. He paused, then turned to Hermione. 

“I had noticed,” she stated, beginning her part of the story without any verbal prompting. “There were little things about Harry that made no sense based on the background that every history book told me about him. He didn’t seem like the boy with the happy childhood, raised by family friends, everyone seemed to think he was. Then when I got back from Christmas hols, he let slip that his aunt and uncle had given him a fifty pence piece for Christmas, which is a bit like giving him a knut. And I just… I  _ knew _ . I didn’t really know what to do about it, so I wrote my Mum and Dad.”

“We consulted our solicitor who advised us the best course of action was to offer a settlement,” George continued. “We wouldn’t press charges if the Dursleys gave up custody. They signed without even reading the entire thing, or looking into who wanted custody.”

“No child,” Jean said in a very quiet voice, which both Hermione and Harry knew was actually worse than if she’d yelled. “Should have to live in a place where he’s hated. No child should have to deliberately fail at school to avoid punishment at home. No child should be so afraid of the adults in his life that he doesn’t know how to trust anyone not his own age. And you, Albus Dumbledore, did that to him. Deliberately. Willfully. Knowing there were people who would raise him and love him, making sure he knew who his parents really were and the heritage he came from.

“I’ve read your bloody laws, and spoken to magical solicitors. There is no reason why Harry had to live with blood relatives. Magical adoption or family bonding would have filled the same need. Bloody hell, it does now and it has  _ for the past four years _ !” Jean was on a roll, fury pouring off of her in waves. Harry was torn between embarrassment at his mother’s ranting, and joy at just how fiercely she loved him.

“We took custody of Harry the summer between first and second year. During second year, Harry and Hermione bonded magically. He has been perfectly safe with us, and you  _ never even noticed the change _ .” Jean glared at Dumbledore. “The only danger he’s ever been in was when he was at your bloody school. ‘Safest place in the wizarding world’ my arse! Voldemort, a basilisk, his parents’ betrayer, and a tournament designed for adults that allowed him to be kidnapped right from under your nose! What would he have faced this year? Death Eaters in the school? His friends forced to turn Dark in order to save themselves?”

“You speak of the ‘greater good’ I’m told,” George added, his tone mild compared to his wife’s but his eyes glinted with anger. “In war, lives are lost and some must be sacrificed for the benefit of many. But wars are  _ not _ fought by children! Or in schools. And yet, you condone both.”

“It’s not just about me,” Harry interjected. “Most of my friends who are children of Death Eaters would have been forced to take the Mark if we hadn’t helped them escape.”

“How did you come to be friends in the first place?” a tall, black man asked from his chair. His name was Shacklebolt, if Harry remembered correctly. 

Harry sighed. “We were not that great about being careful with my identity, that first summer,” he explained. “Snape found out after he ran into us during our vacation to Italy. At the end of our first week back at school, he gave me and Hermione a joint detention so that he and McGonagall could confront us. He’s why we knew the best way to protect us was through the blood bond, and he was the one who inspired us to start a secret group.” He looked to his friends, who all gave their consent with quick nods. “We started Abused Anonymous, with Hermione as our moderator. Except for her, every single missing kid has one thing in common - we grew up being abused or neglected, usually by our Familial Head of House.”

Hermione gave the adults a smile full of false sweetness. “Do you know that what some traditional wizarding families call ‘discipline’ the muggle world has defined as child abuse? And that it’s illegal throughout the UK and most of Europe? Some of the group were brought in by one of our Professors. Others we figured out and invited directly. They helped each other to heal, to understand that it was not their fault they were abused. They connected over shared experiences and feelings. And if not for this muggle family, they would have struggled their whole lives with those issues. Your school did not help them. They helped each other, and we supported them while they did it.”

“And you know what? We became something bigger. We reached across the boundaries of age and House and blood, and we became a family.” Hermione spread her arms to either side, encompassing all of the AA. “These are my brothers and sisters, ladies and gentlemen. And you will find that we are far stronger together than we ever would have been alone.”

“Family forever,” Draco said proudly.

“Always stronger together,” Blaise spoke for the first time.

“By the time last year came around, Cedric and I were so close that he didn’t doubt for a second that I hadn’t put my name in the goblet,” Harry continued.

Cedric laughed. “Yeah, that was a good one. Harry actually seek  _ out _ attention? Especially in so dangerous an event? Have you  _ met _ him?”

“I mean, sure, he scares me half to death with how he flies, but he’s always in control of that,” Hermione added.

“Anyway, when we were transported to the graveyard, I recognized it from a dream I’d had the summer prior,” Harry said. He sighed, still struggling to talk about this. “I knew that I had to get Cedric out of there.”

“Diggory had said he’d seen you take an Avada Kedavra. Was that a lie?” Tonks asked. Everyone on Harry’s side of the table winced at the memory and Cedric paled severely.

Harry shook his head. “I… well… Dumbledore might want to explain, since he knows more about this than probably anyone. We’ve been trying to piece things together, but we’re mostly just guessing. We  _ think _ that during the first War, Voldemort had taken to creating Horcruxes to keep his soul here, and he accidentally made me one after he murdered my first Mum.”

“What in Merlin’s name is a  _ Horcrux _ ?” Ashe interrupted.

“The darkest kind of magic,” Snape said in his deep voice. “One must perform deliberate murder to split the soul, and then store that soul fragment in an object. We assume there’s some sort of spell or ritual to go with it, but thankfully it is not something generally known. Even to those who dabble in the Dark Arts.”

“And You-Know-Who was making them? As in, more than one?” Tonks asked in shock.

“To the best of our knowledge, he made six,” Dumbledore admitted in a near whisper.

“Seven, if you count Harry,” Sirius corrected with a glare.

Harry sighed and shook his head, feeling drained by all the tension and emotion in the room. “When he Avada’d me in the cemetery, he actually killed the piece of his soul attached to me. I had hoped Cedric would escape, and I am really glad he did. He was gone when I woke up again. I was injured, but I managed to get on my broom and fly away.”

“Hermione made communication devices for all the kids, but hers and Harry’s are different,” Remus picked up the tale. “We all had gone home, grief-stricken, but Harry got a message to Hermione. And she’d had enough forethought to put a locator charm on Harry’s before the task. I used hers to apparate directly to Harry, and we got him home.”

“All things considered, it seemed for the best to let the world think Harry was dead,” Jean concluded. “It certainly kept him much safer in the months that followed.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Shacklebolt asked.

“We told the people that mattered,” Hermione answered firmly. “Our family. The people who supported us.”

“Severus and I were informed the next day,” McGonagall said primly. “But we agreed with the assessment that it was safer not to tell anyone else.”

“Honestly, some of us are still getting over it,” Harry said softly. “It threw me a bit, seeing…” he trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

“Harry saw James Potter,” Snape said, when neither the remaining Marauders or the Grangers could finish the sentence for him. There were a few gasps and sharp looks from Order members. “James informed him about the Horcruxes, as well as providing him with other information which Harry could have had no knowledge of in order to convince those of us who might have been skeptical.”

“I told my family about the specifics only once,” Harry admitted, looking at McGonagall, who seemed to now understand why he hadn’t told her who he’d seen in the afterlife. “I… I still don’t like to talk about it, to be honest. So I ask you to respect the fact that this is the one part of the story I won’t take questions about.”

Dumbledore frowned, but the glares that beset him from all sides kept him from arguing the point. “So after school ended for the term, your little group gathered again, I presume. And you’ve been staying..?”

“In a warded location we will not be disclosing,” Jean replied icily. “But since Harry and Hermione are still living together, the family protections have transferred with us. You need not concern yourself with our safety.”

“Or rather, our safety is no business of yours,” George amended.

“You have multiple minors currently living with you who were taken from their parents custody,” Shacklebolt pointed out. 

“We can speak for ourselves, thanks,” Draco spat. “And we can leave any time we want. No one kidnapped us, or offered us a ride home. We decided to leave, if only so that we wouldn’t be forced to take the Dark Mark. Or are you comfortable with condemning teenagers to being forced to serve that half-blooded megalomaniac for no other reason but because Wizarding Law is so severely antiquated the Heads of the family can torture their children without consequences?”

“Or condemning children to having their families make repeated attempts on their lives in the name of ‘forcing magic’ out of them,” Neville added. “Honestly, a child has magic or it doesn’t. You can’t  _ force it  _ out of them.”

“Though abusing them can cause them to lose control of it,” Harry commented cooly. “Or worse, they could become an Obscurial.”

“And while we’re on the subject, I would  _ really _ like to know why you people seem to be pinning all your hopes for the war on a fifteen year old,” Jean purred in a dangerous tone.

“When you thought Harry was dead, your next suggestion was Neville,” Ashe pointed out, reminding everyone of the last meeting.

“Mrs. Granger,” Dumbledore addressed Harry’s Mum for the first time. “You simply don’t understand what the first War was like. So many people - so many families - were being wiped out. And then, all of a sudden it was over.”

“Only because you wanted it to be,” Sirius said critically. “You chose what was easy, Dumbledore, not what was right. The prophecy, even if you believe in it, doesn’t say he has to do it all himself. Only that he has the power to do it. The power might not be magical. It might be knowledge. It might be something else entirely.”

“They have a valid point, Dumbledore,” Moody, who’d been silent up until then, said. “No one really knows what it means. Only some of us even know what it says.”

“That’s another thing. If it’s so important… why not destroy the prophecy?” Harry asked. “Why guard it at all? We know what it says, so guarding it wastes resources. It’s not like having it at the ready will change anything and having it around is a security threat.”

“Harry’s a particularly good tactician,” Draco explained at the Orders’ stunned faces. “Something I’ve always been forced to regret, since it’s always made him a far better Seeker than me.”

“You still managed to keep me on my toes, though,” Harry laughed, breaking the tension somewhat as the Order members observed the ease Harry obviously felt around the Malfoy heir. “And it certainly taught me a lesson about tactics in war.”

Draco inclined his head with a smirk. 

“It’s also true that if Harry or Neville is the subject of the prophecy, and you’re banking on it to end the war, they should be told what it says. It’s their lives you’re risking, after all,” Theo drawled. “Knowledge is power. You’re not playing to win if you’re only going to give us half of the information and then expect us to win the war for you.”

“I mean, I assume you had something to do with the fact that McGonagall assigned our detention in the Forbidden Forest where I faced Voldemort for the second time in my life.” Harry looked at Dumbledore half-accusingly and half-questioningly. “But instead of preparing me for it, you forced me to go into a severely dangerous situation without backup. In fact, Hermione, how many times was my life risked because of Dumbledore’s Greater Good again?” 

“Forbidden Forest for detention, Quirrel as a teacher to begin with given that he was sheltering Voldemort, and then going after the Philosopher’s stone in first year.” Hermione began to tick instances off on her fingers. “I suppose we can’t blame him for Lockhart’s ineptitude, but there were… three attacks by the Basilisk before we went down into the Chamber? So that’s four more second year.”

“I don’t think he could have controlled my getting hit by  _ magicae mortem _ my third year,” Harry agreed, “but we never did find out exactly who nearly killed me that time, which means that someone is still running around out there who might want me dead when I ‘come back to life’. That said, the Dementors on the train, the fact that my parents’ murderer slept in my dorm room for an  _ entire year _ and no one noticed, never mind how long he was in the Tower with Percy. And then the Triwizard Tournament. So you see, Headmaster, why anyone’s parents would be angry with you if their kids had been in that much danger. Ten or eleven times my life was in danger at Hogwarts, as long as you don’t count Quidditch, or the time that I caught Neville’s remembrall after Draco threw it off the roof.”

“I still can’t believe you caught that,” Draco grumbled good-naturedly. “Seeing as you’d never even seen a proper broomstick before, that you could remember.”

Snape’s lip quirked upwards in amusement at his charges, who were both ancient and still very young all at once. “I believe we should return to the subject at had, boys. Jean, George, do you have anything else you would like to add?” They shook their heads. Snape turned to the Order. “Does anyone have any questions?”

“So you two are really friends?” Tonks asked Draco and Harry. “Your animosity towards each other was infamous, even when you were just second years.”

Draco looked at Harry and shrugged. “It was real the first year, but mostly because I thought Harry’d had a cushy life while I’d had a horrid one. It wasn’t until we bonded over mutual experiences that we gave each other another chance.”

“The first time I met Draco, he reminded me a bit of my cousin, Dudley, who had always bullied me,” Harry explained. “I know now it was just insecurity, but I didn’t want anything to do with someone similar to anyone in my old family. That’s how our rivalry originated - we were both afraid and jealous of the other person. It took us a few meetings before we really got to talking and realized that our childhoods were actually pretty similar.”

“At least I got a bedroom,” snorted Draco, reminding every member of the Order of what Harry’d said about his childhood bedroom.

“Cupboard under the stairs?” came Ron’s voice, extremely unsure of himself for once.

Harry pulled out a sealed envelope. “My old family didn’t want me going to Hogwarts. Must have been why they gave up custody so quickly and quietly. Every time letters came, my Uncle would destroy them. By some magic, the original one managed to survive. I found it tucked behind my Aunt’s album.” He passed the envelope over to Ron who paled at the address before passing it back. Harry passed it down so every person in the Order could see. “I know the significance of it now, but when I first met you, it hadn’t been too bad, as long as the spiders didn’t bite you too much.” Ron went white as a sheet and Harry belatedly recalled Fred mentioning that Ron was petrified of spiders.

“I was pretty mad when we first spoke to Professor McGonagall about it,” Hermione said as people stared at the envelope in horror as it was passed around. “I wanted to know how they could know about something so horrible and never do anything about it. Harry wasn’t angry so much as… hurt. But the letters are all addressed magically, and she told us they hadn’t actually known. It helped, a little, to know our House Head at school hadn’t knowingly left Harry in that situation.”

“What can we do to fix this?” Ashe asked, offering Harry a quick smile.

“After the War we want to change things so that the Head of the Family isn’t the Ultimate Authority,” Harry explained. “The Muggle world is actually a lot more advanced in many ways, and it’s more than time to bring Wizards into the modern era.”

Ron snorted. “Muggles have machines that can go over two thousand miles per hour,” Draco explained to Ron. “And I’m going to fly one, one day.”

Ron looked at Hermione for confirmation. “Really?” he asked.

“Actually, the record speed for a muggle craft is 36,000 miles per hour,” Hermione noted. “But that’s just the spacecrafts, and Britain doesn’t have a space program. But there’s other ways muggles have advanced as well. Like being able to send a letter halfway around the world in minutes. Or videos of your favorite shows or movies, or even yourself if you can afford a camcorder. Or mobile devices that can send off text-based messages. Some are quite large, but you can talk to anyone from wherever you are. There’s even a place where you can buy books and have them mailed them to you. A bit like Owl Order if you could automatically see their inventory.” Harry grinned. Hermione had emitted an extremely loud squeal when she’d located a website that summer called ‘Amazon.com’ which sold books and shipped them to your house 1 .

“Going out into the Muggle world has actually been much more informative than any muggle studies class I’ve ever attended,” Cedric noted. “The fact that they don’t have simple, magic solutions has led to some pretty inventive breakthroughs.”

“We were all taught to believe that muggles are savage, even primitive. That nothing they’ve accomplished could ever be as good as the wizarding world,” Theo commented. “It only took one morning for us to learn otherwise. Wizarding society expects muggle-born witches and wizards to embrace our ways and our culture, but we completely ignore - and some even degrade - theirs.”

“I love magic, and I love learning about magic,” Hermione said in a low voice. “But it’s only a different way of doing things, not better. Even wizards who are tolerant of muggles still have hardly any real understanding of us. You think of us as we were hundreds of years ago, and you judge us based on that and your own beliefs.”

“Hermione and I still plan to go to University after Hogwarts,” Harry announced. “To be honest, the one subject I love most is a subject that could easily be offered at Hogwarts but isn’t, Maths.”

“I mean, all Wizards know basics,” Remus expounded, “adding and subtracting and the like, but there are plenty more sub-subjects which can be applied to life at Hogwarts.”

“I do agree that there are several young wizards who would do much better at Potions if they had a more solid grasp at fractions,” Snape added.

“But there’s also Algebra, Geometry, Trigonometry, Calculus, Statistics…” Remus rattled off. “Harry usually spends his summers catching up with what he would have studied if he’d been in muggle school.”

“I have a question,” Blaise said quietly. “What are you going to do about… us?”

“I say we do nothing,” Tonks asserted. “You kids have a safe place to stay, out of the reach of parents who would try to turn you into Death Eaters. You’re there by choice, and if these two,” she waved her hand towards Snape and McGonagall, “know where you’ve been, I’m certain you’re still learning as much as if you were in school.”

“More, in some cases, because they don’t have dunderheaded twits holding them back,” Snape interjected dryly. “We can teach to their ability, not a general class level.”

“I’m content to leave things as they are,” McGonagall agreed. “It’s a bit more work for us as teachers, but it also gives us an option if we spot more students in danger from their own families.”

“There are several AA members still at Hogwarts,” Cedric informed the Order members. “Mostly they’re second and third years; they were young enough last year that even though their homes aren’t happy, they aren’t yet in imminent danger of being Marked.”

“They still meet up,” McGonagall informed the students with a tight smile. “I believe you may have begun something that will last as long as we have students in unsafe or unstable homes.”

The group of teens all smiled at that idea, the twins included. “We see them regularly,” Gred said.

“I think we’ve read more books on child psychology in the past two months-” Forge went on.

“‘Than we had all summer,” Gred finished.

Bill beamed at his brothers. “I didn’t realize you were so heavily involved,” he told the twins. “I’m proud of you.”

“We pulled them in last term,” Cedric explained. “The group was getting too large for Hermione to be the only moderator, and she was stressed with Harry, and later also Viktor, in the tournament as well.”

“It was an easy choice to make,” Hermione responded with a shrug. “The twins figured out Harry and I about two minutes after we met up in Diagon Alley our second year, and proved they could keep our secrets as well as their own. They were a safe bet.”

“You knew this whole time?” Ginny asked, shocked. 

Forge shrugged. “Harry had new glasses,” he announced, as if it explained everything.

Gred nodded. “That made us look closer, and once you looked hard enough… it wasn’t that hard to piece together. Hermione had clearly started to look at Harry like an older sister would.”

“We’ve gotten sidetracked,” George broke in gently. “I believe we still need a full answer to Blaise’s question.” His gaze lingered on the Order members who’d not yet spoken up about the kids.

Dumbledore met George’s eyes, and all hints of his usual twinkle were gone. No longer did he wear the demeanor of the genial Headmaster or the kindly old wizard. Instead, he wore the cold visage of a wizarding general, and his frown only deepened the air of power around him. “You’re all making a grave mistake,” he intoned seriously. “We cannot plan and fight this war if you withhold information about strategic players.”

“Most of these students are under sixteen,” George rebutted. “They shouldn’t be players in a war at all.”

“And if they don’t fight, and we lose?” Dumbledore asked. “What then? Voldemort was winning the war, the last time he was alive. Simply because he was willing to do what was necessary for his cause. We have a real chance here to make sure Voldemort never manages to get that foothold again.”

“Why then?” Harry piped up, struggling to keep his voice even. “Why leave me… why not give me to Aunt Ashe and have her raise me to be a soldier for your war. What good would it have done to make me go through…  _ that _ .” Ashe had started at what Harry called her, then smiled fondly.

“According to the prophecy, only the one marked by Voldemort can defeat him permanently. But it also states that ‘neither can live while the other survives.’” Dumbledore sighed. “It seems very likely to me that you will defeat him, but you’re unlikely to live through the experience.”

Hermione and Harry exchanged a glance, putting the pieces together rapidly. “A savior with no home and no family, nothing to keep living for, is much more likely to be willing to die for the cause,” Hermione said in a low voice tinged with anger. “You were setting him up all along.”

Harry was, quite suddenly, extremely angry with Dumbledore, and he wasn’t the only one. His family, his friends, even the other Order members seemed, at the very least, irked by the idea. Ashe had a tight grip on both Sirius and Remus; the two men looked like they were heartbeats away from leaping at Dumbledore with all their canine/lupine instincts at the ready. But then it was almost like he was given a different view of Dumbledore. “Who hurt you so badly that you’d be willing to abandon a baby to hell?” he asked. “I don’t wish that on my worst enemy. I  _ didn’t _ . I was given a choice to leave my worst enemy to the mercy of their abuser and I pulled them out as best I could, even though we were  _ twelve _ .” 

“I know you may not believe me Harry,” Dumbledore said. “But I  _ am _ sorry.”

“To hell with your sorry!” Harry shouted, standing up. “You obviously weren’t  _ sorry _ enough to fix things! You weren’t  _ sorry _ enough to keep me safe!  _ Sorry _ doesn’t bring back my parents! Did you sacrifice them, too? Were they left to die so you could have your ‘Chosen One’ to fit the prophecy?! Did you know about Pettigrew?”

“What about me?” Neville asked when Dumbledore didn’t say anything. “Did you sacrifice  _ my _ parents? Did you know what my family was doing to me? Beating the magic into of me? Like that’s somehow  _ normal _ ? Did you let them do it so that I could be your ‘backup’ in case Harry died?”

There was a scuffling. “Sirius!  _ Sirius _ !” Ashe called as she struggled to hold her fiance back. Sirius was lunging forward, looking rather  _ dogged _ . 

“I think it’s best if everyone take five minutes to part ways before coming back to this,” Bill said in a loud, firm voice. He looked rather disturbed himself. “As my Mum would say, ‘go to your corners’.”

McGonagall all but dragged Dumbledore out of the room. Shacklebolt and Tonks went to help Ashe contain Sirius and Remus, who wasn’t in much better shape. The werewolf had a vicious snarl and death in his eyes as he stared after the elderly wizard who’d been an unseen threat to his pup for so long. The three aurors managed to get them into the back yard for some air.

Harry knew it might be childish, but he couldn’t help but seek his parents, wanting the comfort of the people who had always protected him. No one commented as Jean wrapped him in a tight hug and George wrapped his arms around them both. Hermione tugged Neville closer, her side pressed against Harry’s and her arms around their friend. Luna bracketed Neville as the girls did their best to comfort him too.

Snape moved towards the cluster of Slytherin boys and Cedric, speaking in a low voice to help them contain their tempers. Draco’s eyes blazed with indignation and Theo was quietly fuming. For them, however, Snape was the first positive adult influence in their lives and they listened to him without stopping to think about it. He generally had their best interests in mind, and though he was just as angry as they were, Snape had much better control of his emotions.

Harry was so angry he didn’t know what to do with himself. But as much as it hurt to realize that someone could have stepped in to prevent his Aunt, Uncle, and Cousin’s abuse, he was angry for his friends more than himself. They’d all been sacrificed or abandoned by Dumbledore, who should have been wise enough to know better. “How did we ever get into this mess?” Harry asked quietly. 

“It happens when there are no checks on power,” George explained. “Some of you are going to have seats at the table in a few years. This is a very important lesson for all of you. Anyone can lose sight of what’s important.” 

“That’s why it’s important to stay around people who will make you think critically about your decisions,” Jean added. “Even if you think you’re right, you should still listen to what other people have to say. And if something is so secret you can’t tell other people about it, perhaps you ought to reconsider whether it is the right thing or not.”

Harry nodded slowly. “I tell Hermione just about everything, and there isn’t much we don’t share with the rest of the family…”

“We know that now,” George said, nodding. “We know you all share with each other pretty well. But we’re just reminding you it’s important to keep doing that.”

“I understand, Dad,” Harry agreed. He couldn’t believe that Dumbledore had been so manipulative and had been allowed so much power. 

After ten or so minutes, Bill checked in and after everyone calmed down enough, Dumbledore and McGonagall returned. “Regardless of the past,” Dumbledore began, “we need to show a united front against Voldemort in  _ this  _ war.”

“We agree on that,” George said. Their group had agreed that he was the most even-tempered, so he’d speak for them. “We don’t agree that you should lead that front.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 Amazon.com was launched on July 5, 1994 as a book retailer


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's to become of the Order?

There isn't a canon photo for Harry and the Grangers, but this seemed appropriate anyway.

* * *

**Last Chapter...**

> _ “We agree on that,” George said. Their group had agreed that he was the most even-tempered, so he would speak for them. “We don’t agree that you should lead that front.” _

**Chapter 6**

“And a muggle like you would know about what it takes to lead a wizarding war?” Moody growled.

“Let’s go home,” Harry said, fed up. “Nothing is going to get done with them in this mood.”

George put a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “If even the people who fight for good believe magic makes them superior to everyone else, I fear for the future of this world. The whole world, magical and non-magical alike.”

“What are you suggesting?” McGonagall asked before any of the more temperamental members could speak up.

“We don’t believe any one person can know what’s right for everyone,” George replied calmly. “We as a family do not believe we fully know what it takes to lead a war, but we do know that a leader who trusts no one is seldom, themselves, worthy of trust. And a leader who takes no counsel but his own is not the sort of person we’re willing to follow.”

“Even a small group needs a leader to take charge, make decisions,” Dumbledore began.

“So we should have someone leading the Order who listens to everyone,” Gred piped up. “That’s what made the AA as strong of a group as it is. Hermione listened to every perspective, and let everyone talk, and the collective made decisions on how to move forward. If there was ever any disagreement, the group compromised.”

“What about Professor McGonagall?” Hermione suggested. “Or Professor Snape? They’ve known about us from the beginning.”

“Sirius also might be a good choice,” Ashe suggested. “He was Moody’s protege, and the best in our year, until he was falsely imprisoned without trial. He and James were the two who fought most frequently on the front lines during the first Wizarding War.”

“I appreciate your faith in me, Miss Granger,” Snape said with a nod to Hermione, “but I must decline. My unique… position… is such that I cannot afford to be seen or known as the leader of any opposition to the enemy.”

“Mr. Black might actually be a wise compromise,” McGonagall noted. “The Ministry would be far more hesitant to go after him after improperly imprisoning him and after the public loss of his godson. It gives us a tactical advantage against them.”

“As Voldemort still thinks Potter is dead, a grieving Godfather is not a threat to him. He thinks that Sirius has been brought low and will stay out of the remainder of the war,” Snape commented idly.

“What do you think, Sirius?” George asked.

Sirius sighed, looking at Dumbledore. “I used to think the world of you. We all did. Lily and Prongs, and Moony, and I… and none of us are saying that we expected perfection. Mistakes happen.” Sirius paused, wearing a pained expression as he gathered his thoughts. “But now I have to stop and question your motives for everything that happened in the last twenty years. People have died, I spent over a decade in prison. People’s lives were ruined. For what? Because you couldn’t see any way out of this war except for this one path? And seeing as you’re the smartest wizard on the planet, you didn’t think about talking to  _ anyone _ about your plan before executing it? You have no idea the hell Azkaban truly is, Dumbledore, but to escape only to find out that Harry spent a decade with the very people that Lily told you never to place Harry with? The people who hate us? A cupboard under the stairs, Dumbledore. I would have spent ten lifetimes in Azkaban if it meant that Harry didn’t have to go through that. Nothing is worth forcing a child to go through something like  _ that _ .”

“If you do become the leader of the Order,” Dumbledore began, glossing over most of what Sirius had said.

“Is that all this is about to you? Being in charge? Having power?” Draco said in a disgusted tone. 

Dumbledore seemed at a loss for a moment. “The past is past,” he finally said. “We have a Dark Lord that must be dealt with, and that must be our immediate concern.” Draco was clearly not placated, but a glance from Sirius and he subsided.. “So with that concern in mind, do you have a plan?”

“Right now we’ve been working on destroying Voldemort’s remaining Horcruxes. We’ve destroyed three of them, and the kids think they’ve identified to our best estimates what the other likely four are. We know he passed the horcrux of his childhood diary to Lucius Malfoy.” Sirius paused minutely, and the Weasleys all paled a little. Bill quickly sat down next to Ginny and spoke to her in a low tone. 

“Given that,” Sirius continued, leaving Bill to take care of his sister, “we think he might have passed my cousin Bella one. I’ve emptied her accounts into one of mine that she can’t access and I’m waiting for an appointment next week for a Goblin and a curse-breaker to help me go through the contents.”

“And the others?” Shacklebolt asked, the other Order members looking on in interest.

“Hermione?” Sirius offered.

“We think two are heirlooms of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. We’re unsure what the Hufflepuff heirloom would be, but Ravenclaw’s diadem has been missing for over half a century. Our theory is that he somehow located it. The third would be an heirloom of his mother’s family, the Gaunts…”

“And the fourth?” McGonagall prompted gently.

Hermione looked nervously at Harry. He cleared his throat, remembering dreaming from the snake’s point of view, but nodded at her to continue. “Voldemort’s snake. We’ve already proven that it’s possible to put a horcrux in a living thing, and his snake is always with him. We think it’s probably also a familiar.” She bit her lip, glancing at the Weasleys. “It would be the same snake that attacked Mr. Weasley,” she added softly.

“Why the founders’ heirlooms?” Tonks asked. “Why not something innocuous?”

“There are two likely answers to that,” Sirius continued. The Weasleys looked grateful to get off the subject of the snake. “The latest horcrux we destroyed was Slytherin’s locket. So, we think it’s a combination of him creating horcruxes in items people would be hesitant to destroy and secondly… well, frankly, Tom Riddle is a half-blood obsessed with blood purity. And very few bloodlines are as pure and old as the Founders’.”

“Wait a minute, back up,” Ron broke in with a frown. “You mean the pureblood traditionalists are all following a  _ halfblood _ who claims to want blood purity? Are they  _ nutters _ ?”

“Very few know Voldemort’s true identity, and so they don’t know he isn’t a pureblood as well,” Dumbledore explained wryly. “He does have pureblood lineage, but he isn’t one himself.”

“And yes, actually, most of them are either deluded or insane,” Snape added in a voice as dry as any desert. “A few are both.”

“How did you lot figure all this out?” Tonks inquired.

“Once we knew about Horcruxes, we came to the conclusion that we’d already fought one.” She slanted a glance at Ginny, but didn’t elaborate further. “Which led us to believe the items used would all have some value, either personal or historical. Finding Slytherin’s locket… well, we know Riddle was a Slytherin and a parselmouth. Makes sense. But it gave us the idea about the others. Special objects from the Founders. A family heirloom, from the pureblood family he wants so badly to claim.”

“And his snake familiar, because a familiar does matter to a wizard - even one as Dark as he is,” Tonks finished.

“We also figured out that basilisk venom can destroy a horcrux,” Harry added. “Luckily, we have some.”

Draco snorted. “ _ Luck _ ? Luck had nothing to do with it. Luck can’t take on a basilisk over 200 feet in length and  _ win _ .”

Hermione sighed softly at the reminder, but after last June… it just didn’t bother her the way it used to. Thinking her brother was dying had nothing on believing that he was dead. “It was partly luck, partly teamwork, and partly Dad’s bear spray. With help from Fawkes.”

“We have no intention of Harry going up against Voldemort again. With regards to Old Snake Head, his familiar is going to cause some problems,” Sirius said, taking charge. “But we’re hoping to destroy the others as quietly and quickly as possible, with or without you.” 

Jean, who’d been largely silent before made a slight, dissatisfied noise. Ashe got up and put a hand on Jean’s shoulder. “Jean, it’s okay. It’s over now.”

“Something to add?” Moody asked, his tone leaning more towards curiosity.

“Harry should have never been involved in any of this in the first place. Prophecy or not, Voldemort isn’t his responsibility,” Jean snapped. “You can’t possibly understand…” Her face crumbled as tears slipped down her cheeks. 

Harry got up from his seat and embraced her. “I’m still here,” he murmured as she hugged him back.

The Order members stared as Jean cleared her throat. “Since Harry entered our house, it has felt like Harry was meant to be ours. Our second child, something we had always wanted. Our baby boy.” Harry colored, but said nothing. “I’ve had to hear second hand about how my baby boy came close to death three times in four years. The fourth time…” She shook her head, overcome with emotion.

George stepped in, a hand on her other shoulder. “Two years ago, we had to watch as Harry came quite close to dying from an illness. There are… no words to describe how hard it is to watch your own child struggling to live. We couldn’t do anything but try to keep him comfortable… we would have done anything to trade places with him.”

Sirius looked pained. He cleared his throat and interjected. “Now, I’m sure the Order has some things to discuss, and we have some kids to get home, since it’s now nearly lunch.”

Moody looked like he wanted to argue, but the others all nodded. Even Dumbledore didn’t have any objections, or maybe it was just McGonagall’s glare keeping him silent. Or perhaps he’d decided he couldn’t win against the Grangers at the moment. So he let them go. 

Bill and the twins walked the group to the Floo; Gred and Forge kept cracking jokes in order to make the others smile or laugh. Hermione leaned into Fred’s embrace a little longer than the rest, silently grateful for his ever-present support of her family and its associated chaos. Bill cast a muffling charm so no one could hear the location they all shouted to go home, so in short order, they all stepped through, leaving Grimmauld Place behind.

The moment Harry was home, he grabbed one of his favorite maths books and laid down on one of the couches to read. Harry didn’t think he could ever understand what Dumbledore had done, but knew that this kind of thing always started small. It would have been fine, if he’d remained just the Headmaster of Hogwarts, but instead things had snowballed with the War. 

Dumbledore was all the proof Harry needed of the adage, ‘Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.’ He knew Dumbledore was just one person, but it was days like today that made him want to go to University and never come back to the wizarding world. 

Jean rested her hand on Harry’s shoulder for a moment, but she didn’t say anything to him directly. Instead, she raised her voice just enough for all the teens to hear her. “Half an hour until lunch; I expect you all have studying to do until then.”

“But Mum, it’s the weekend!” Blaise pouted; everyone stopped and blinked at him for a moment, and he ducked his head as he realized what he’d said. “Sorry… just kinda…”

Jean smiled at him. “It’s fine. Quiet reading, please, until lunchtime.”

This time no one argued. As they all found a book and settled in wherever they were comfortable, Blaise side-eyed Hermione and then Harry. Hermione shook her head, indicating she wasn’t upset, but Harry was absorbed in his book and his own thoughts. If neither Jean nor Hermione minded, though, Blaise thought it probably was really okay.

Even Sirius and Remus were unusually quiet until lunch. Sirius was the first to speak, once the house elves had laid out a veritable feast in front of the fire. “Merlin,” Sirius said. “How did no one catch on to what Dumbledore was doing?”

“People felt beholden to him because he captured Gellert Grindelwald,” Remus replied with a shrug. “It helps that he is considered to be the strongest wizard in Britain, possibly in the world. Most people don’t want to cross that.”

“We’re all to some extent indoctrinated to respect him, as the Headmaster of Hogwarts. And much like House affiliation, I would assume some of that carries over into adulthood,” Hermione rationalized.

“And Voldemort began accumulating power about ten years after Grindelwald was defeated,” Blaise added. “Given our revelations about Dumbledore, the Wizarding World has been under siege since the 1940s.”

“God, no wonder you guys have such a backwards view of muggles,” Jean breathed. “You wizards have been rather busy fighting each other.”

“Civil war of the worst kind,” Remus elaborated. “Family against family. In some cases, brother against brother.” He glanced sideways at Sirius, but Sirius just shrugged. They’d had a long time to come to terms with fighting family in the last war.

“And they would have us do the same thing all over again.” Theo sighed, looking glum. “Ultimately, all to feed the egos of those who need to believe they’re superior. And to hide the insecurities of a halfblood who wanted power more than anything.”

“Or the pureblood who… whatever Dumbledore’s motivations are.”

“Likely also about power, though perhaps of a more benevolent sort.”

“It may have been that to start with, but by the time he achieved the power he wanted Dumbledore may have ended up no better than those he defeated,” Jean pointed out. “Even the best among us can still be caught by temptation, and power so often corrupts.”

“Will we be any better by the time this is all over?” Draco asked in a small voice. “Voldemort, Dumbledore, the Ministry… by the time we’ve gotten to the point where we can effect the changes we want, will we be as bad as them?”

“As long as you all stick together, talk with and listen to each other, I think you’re likely to be much more stable,” George clarified. “If there were only a few, Harry and Hermione for example, if they were in this fight alone and only ever consulted each other, then perhaps they could be more tempted to fall. But this group right here has eight mixed-house and mixed-background students, two wizards and two non-magical adults. Plus the other people you’ve chosen to trust - Bill, Fleur, Viktor, Gred and Forge, Minerva and Severus. As long as that continues, you each have many, many people to keep you on the right path, and for you to help in turn.”

“Stronger together can apply to ourselves as much as against others,” Hermione offered. “We keep each other safe, sane, and on the right path.”

“It’s unlikely any one thing will be able to corrupt all of you, let alone all your friends and allies,” Remus added with a smile. “Everyone has weaknesses, but you don’t all have the same weaknesses - save perhaps one.”

“What one is that?” Blaise asked.

“Each other,” Sirius said solemnly. A glance at Remus and then at Harry said everything else necessary; the Marauders were enough of a cautionary tale about how betrayal from inside the group could break them all to pieces.

“I want to say it’s impossible,” Cedric said. “That this is a siblinghood that can’t be broken…”

“But anyone can be gotten to. All they’d have to do is find the right pressure point and push,” Theo said. “Threaten one of us, or one of the people we love.” 

Harry paled. “Katie…” He breathed, realizing that not even he was in the clear. He had people he loved who could be used against him. Though, to be fair, most people thought he was dead. 

“How do we… how do we know who to trust?” Neville asked. “If anyone can be gotten to…”

“We have to trust them,” Remus said. “But we also have to plan for betrayal.”

“Let’s all promise,” Draco piped up. “To do our best to prevent any betrayal from happening.”

“And if we can end this war before it truly begins, that should help some,” Blaise noted.

“I will be the first to say that if someone is threatening my life to make any of you cooperate, please know I would rather die than live knowing I was the reason our group split in any way,” Hermione said forthrightly. “I wouldn’t want to be prioritized over winning this war.”

Jean’s expression was pained, but she didn’t argue with her daughter. It wouldn’t do any good, and she rather expected the rest of the group felt similarly.

“Neither would I,” Draco said. “My father is shrewd and evil.”

“I could tell you that,” Harry joked. “He’s already nearly killed me once.”

“He wouldn’t be against killing his own son if it got him what he wanted,” Draco continued. “I’d rather die than go back to…  _ that _ .”

“Same for me,” Theo and Blaise said in the same breath. “For the same reasons,” Theo added.

“I know we would all do anything possible to rescue each other, should something like that happen,” Cedric said solemnly. “But I don’t think any of us would want to be prioritized over the fate of the world.”

“Godric, do I hate hearing you all talk like this,” Sirius said, scrubbing his face with his hands. “I don’t disagree with you in principle, but it’s depressing to hear from a group of mostly fifteen year olds.”

“Agreed,” George and Remus responded quietly.

“Dumbledore isn’t entirely wrong; if we don’t fight in this war and evil wins… that isn’t an outcome we want to live with,” Neville said with a sigh.

“But if you all die in the process of winning the war, what did anyone really win?” Jean asked softly. “We’re fighting for the future, but you kids  _ are _ the future. If we lose you in the process, it becomes a rather hollow victory.”

“I think what we’re saying is that we’d want to live, to change the world. But that outcome isn’t guaranteed,” Harry said calmly. “If I could die so that the war could be won… as much as I don’t want to die… it’d be worth it.”

“None of us want to be a martyr,” Cedric agreed. “But we’d die for our friends, so that they could continue on. Harry might have done it first, but that doesn’t mean the rest of us aren’t just as dedicated to each other.”

“No one is doubting your dedication,” Remus said with a small smile. “We aren’t that different, after all. We can - and have - done a great many things for the sake of people we consider family. I just hope you can be smarter about it than we were at your age.”

Harry looked at his friends. “It’s not that we want to fight,” he said carefully. “Or even that we’re volunteering.”

“We just think we’re going to get dragged into this thing one way or the other,” Hermione added, aiding her brother. “We came to the conclusion that we wanted to be ready, if it came to that.”

“I’d actually prefer it if I never had to fight ever again,” Harry said. 

“Agreed,” Neville said. 

Sirius sighed. “Well this is a very cheery conversation,” he pointed out. “Can we change the subject? It’s a bad day for some of us anyway.”

Harry had been avoiding thinking of it, because of the chaos from Luna’s dream and the like, but now it hit him like a punch to the gut. “I actually thought I’d go flying for a little while,” Harry said, making it clear that he didn’t want to go with anyone.

“I’ll come too,” Sirius said, heading off any objections off at the pass. Instead of grabbing his own broom, Harry grabbed his father’s. He hadn’t ridden it yet, but this seemed like an appropriate time. While he didn’t really want a babysitter, at least it was Sirius, who had his own demons in relation to this day. He kicked off hard, closing his eyes.

_ “Fasser, Daddy! Fasser! _ ” The echo of the memory flitted to the forefront of his mind, bringing tears to his eyes. Someone had been holding on to him, big and strong, shielding him against the wind. The big booming laugh. Harry’s tears froze to his cheeks as he cried while he flew around the eves of the house. He felt guilty, sometimes, that on Halloween the pain was still so fresh, as if his parents had just been killed. Perhaps it was because of the recent revelations from Dumbledore, but he didn’t think it had  _ ever _ hurt this bad, not even when he was still back in his cupboard after he’d been hurt by one of his relatives. 

“You okay?” Sirius asked.

“Huh?” Harry asked, turning around to stare at his godfather.

“You’ve been sitting in the same spot for five minutes,” Sirius said. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No… yes… bloody hell, I don’t know. I just hate today,” Harry said. 

“I don’t know if I ever told you this,” Sirius started sullenly. “I nearly got custody of you, unofficially.”

“What? How?” Harry demanded.

“Hagrid got to the… to Godric’s Hollow first,” Sirius explained, shifting uncomfortably. “I came just as he was pulling you out of the wreckage. I begged Hagrid to give you to me. You were my pup, and James and Lily… anyway, Hagrid refused to give you to me, so I decided to go after Peter. I was going to arrest him, to prove my innocence. If I’d been just five minutes sooner…”

“We would have lived life on the run,” Harry pointed out.

“Eh, it wouldn’t have been so bad,” Sirius said. “Couple of guys, with dull names and duller stories. I woulda taught you all the magic I knew. When you got older you would have been a young man and his dog. We would have been together. Happy.”

“Eventually, we would have proven your innocence,” Harry pointed out. “But… it wouldn’t have been as nice as all this is, most days.”

“No, probably not,” Sirius conceded. “We both would’ve missed the worst years of our lives… but also some of the best people we currently know.” He sighed. “I would have liked to have kept you safe and happy, pup. But since I couldn’t… well, I’m glad you found people to take care of you when no one else would.”

“I just… sometimes I wish I had been a little older. Sometimes I get… flickers. One or two seconds of a memory of them. It isn’t enough. The memory chest is nice, too. But it’s not the same either.”

Sirius looked upset by Harry’s reply. “What if you and I and Uncle Moony went to Godric’s Hollow today?” Sirius asked. “This was going to be a surprise for Christmas, but one of the things I’ve been doing the last year has been restoring that place and all the stuff in it. Lily kept all your baby stuff there, including a collection of photos as you were growing up.”

“I’d like that,” Harry said. “It’s not that I don’t love the others I just…”

“No, I get it. I think it would do the three of us good, though I might mirror your Aunt Ashe to see if she wants to come as well.”

That was how, an hour later, the four of them arrived at Godric’s Hollow. It was a quaint, small cottage that was, at most, three bedrooms. It was white, with thin, brown slats every few feet around the top half of the house. “One of the smaller of the Potter family properties, thank god,” Sirius said. “Not as many keepsakes to burn. And Lily had the forethought to get anything that was truly valuable away from here.”

“Be glad you didn’t see it before,” Remus groused.

Sirius grimaced. “I wasn’t there for it, but after you told Moony about the Dursleys, he came here and, well… apparently they’d built some sort of shrine to you, James and Lily.”

“Some bollox about leaving the bloody house ruined as a memorial,” Remus almost snarled. “Because some arseholes thought you’d rather have a ruined shrine than a restored home.”

Harry paled at the thought of coming to a house in ruins. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “They’d want to be remembered for how they lived. Not how they died.”

“And we’d rather that’s how  _ you _ remember them,” Ashe replied, pressing a brief kiss to the top of Harry’s head. “Come on; let’s go inside so you can explore.”

Harry opened the door and saw the inside of the house. It was almost like the Grangers’ home.. It was comfortable, homey. His parents must have been terrified, moving into this house, Voldemort after their first-born. He couldn’t imagine their fear. To drop everything and move into this place.

“We used to take holidays here,” Remus said quietly. “Ever since we were about fifteen, two weeks every summer, we’d come here.”

“I had my first drink here,” Sirius added. 

“I remember,” Ashe said. “That was some party, summer before seventh year.”

“James’ parents passed away our sixth year,” Remus explained. “They had him pretty late in life and caught Dragon Pox.”

“We were all already seventeen, so our vacation here was the first time we were all unsupervised,” Sirius said. 

“All the Gryffindors in our year came,” Ashe grinned. “So did all the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs.”

“It was a rager,” Remus said with a laugh. “Thank Merlin for silencing spells or the neighbors would have complained.”

“That night was the first time I ever kissed Sirius,” Ashe revealed.

Sirius’ jaw dropped. “It was?”

“You don’t remember telling me that you believed that I could do anything and I should apply to be an auror?” Ashe asked curiously.

“N-no!” Sirius stammered. “I mean, I believed that. Always did. Of course I believed that. But I don’t remember saying that.”

Ashe frowned. “Huh… I guess that’s a lesson kid, never have a kiss someone four shots of firewhiskey in and expect them to remember it.”

Harry snickered and nodded; he and Katie had already shared several kisses, so he wasn’t worried about their first being forgotten in the haze of alcohol. He idly listened to them reminisce as he moved around the living room curiously. He found himself drawn first to the photos on the mantel, looking rather pristine for being fourteen years old and left in an abandoned house.

Most of the pictures were of himself, with one or both of his parents. But there were a few others; the Marauders as adults, Sirius and Ashe caught under a mistletoe, another couple that Harry guessed were the Longbottoms from their resemblance to Neville, and more. 

“Lily’s mum was something of a shutterbug; she loved taking photos, and Lily took after her in that,” Ashe offered lowly as she approached. Her fingers traced the air above a photo of herself and Lily, both smiling and waving from a park bench. “She made sure there were plenty, and got others to take some for her so she would be in a few too.”

“I’m glad she did,” Harry said, his voice a little rough. “I never thought I’d know who they were, you know? The money, the properties, even the magic… none of that really matters. But getting to see them… I mean, like this… happy… it’s more than I could have imagined.”

“I’m sorry I trusted Dumbledore,” Ashe said quietly. “I really thought he was a good man. You know, your Mum and I didn’t start out as friends. We were in the same year, and in the same house, but, well, during my first days at Hogwarts I decided I didn’t need friends, so I didn’t really make any until I was your age. My Mum disappeared a month before my first day at Hogwarts. They never found her body.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said. 

“She was a muggle-born, and a hippie. She advocated to do away with the statute of secrecy and she pissed off a lot of people.”

“Draco Malfoy wants to look into doing that,” Harry said with a fond smile. 

Ashe laughed a little. “It’s not a bad idea, but Mum was, well, a Hufflepuff. There’s a reason why the Hufflepuff icon is the badger. They’re… tenacious. She went at the problem head-on. She pissed people off her whole life. She just pissed the wrong person off.”

“Did they ever find out who killed her?” Harry asked.

“No,” Ashe said. “But it made me want to be an Auror. If I couldn’t find answers for my Dad and I, I could find answers for other families. I thought friends would distract me from that.”

“So how did you become friends with my Mum?” Harry was genuinely curious.

“She and I were assigned partners for a project in Herbology,” Ashe said with a wistful smile. “Neither of us was terribly good with plants, and when our plants died… well, we conspired to replace them with ones we ordered. After that, Lily just kinda stuck by me. I didn’t quite understand it at first, but I wouldn’t change it for the world. Through Lily I met Alice and James and Sirius and Remus...”

“And then they died, and Sirius was sent to prison.” Harry cried silently.

Ashe gathered Harry into her arms and held on tight. “I was numb for a long time after that,” she continued. “Like I said, I never believed that Sirius did it. But the world…” she sighed and let go of Harry; he saw pain on her face. Not for the first time did Harry realize that there was a whole other story of pain and loss due to Pettigrew. “The world moved on… without me. They didn’t want to think about it too hard. People hated me. The only reason why I kept my job was because of Amelia and Alastor, my bosses. But I became a leper. Still am. Most people still believe that Sirius betrayed your parents. And that I  _ knew _ .”

“So you left the country,” Harry finished, nodding. He could understand that. If he had the choice in her situation, he’d likely have done the same.

“Far enough away that Voldemort was distant news and no one kept up with who was on what side, for the most part,” Ashe agreed. “I didn’t really make friends there, I was too closed off for that, but at least I wasn’t automatically under suspicion.”

Harry gave her a small but genuine smile. “I’m glad you came back,” he said, hugging her again.

“Me too, kid,” Ashe sighed. “Me too.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The remainder aftermath of revealing All to the Order of the Phoenix, and everyone looks to the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting this later in the day than usual. As I had more post-weekend work than usual to get out of the way this morning.

The group sat around after Harry’s, Sirius’ abrupt departure. Not that they blamed any of them for being surly, that day in particular, but it left a harsh sort of air in the room.

Hermione sighed softly to herself, knowing that she couldn’t help Harry no matter how much she might try. So instead of focusing on her wayward brother, she turned her attention to someone she  _ could _ help. “Feel like some girl time, Luna?” she asked in a low voice.

“That sounds lovely, Hermione,” Luna agreed, her usual dreamy tone more subdued. Shadows under her eyes showed how the vision and subsequent confrontation had taken their toll on the younger girl.

“I’ll have some tea and biscuits brought up to you,” Jean offered with a small smile. Hermione smiled and nodded acceptance. Arm in arm, the two young women left the boys to themselves.

“Are you guys okay?” George asked the boys. 

“Yeah,” Draco lied. “Fine.”

George shifted, slightly uncomfortable. With his children, he’d call them out on the lie, but with the AA members, that trust hadn’t been built yet. Thankfully, the AA members called each other out. “Draco,” Theo pressed carefully.

“Fine, I’m pissed off. Our problems are societal, and Dumbledore did nothing to help us, but Harry… Harry came from a  _ good _ family. A family that would have never hurt him. And there were plenty of people who would have taken him in and given him a good childhood. It’s one thing to be passive about abuse, but Dumbledore forced Harry into a situation where he  _ knew _ he’d be abused. For what?”

“It’s not that we’re not grateful. It turned out well enough,” Neville added. “Hermione noticed, you helped Harry, Harry and Hermione helped us… but…”

“It was cruel,” Blaise piped up. “Dumbledore was cruel.  _ Is _ cruel.”

“He is,” George agreed, gesturing the boys to take seats again. “But I want you to understand something. Dumbledore is  _ old _ . And he has lived through four major wars, three of which at least have had a magical counterpart. He does what he thinks is best, but he has lost sight of the fact that his decisions affect people as individuals. When you play wizard’s chess, do you feel badly for the pieces?”

Draco shrugged. “They’re just game pieces. They’re fine when the game is over.”

“That, I believe, is how Dumbledore has come to perceive the world around him,” George agreed with a nod. “Including the people. I’m not saying that makes it right,” he added, raising his hands to cut off any protest. “But that does happen to some people, especially when they get that sort of old and tired. Especially when they have lost a great many friends, as I imagine Dumbledore has.”

“You’re saying that we all need to watch ourselves, and each other, as we get older so we don’t fall prey to a similar sort of solipsism,” Theo concluded. “If I’m remembering Hermione’s psychology books right,” and the group all knew he would, “that does sound like what he’s fallen victim to. The belief that only his mind, only his mental states, truly exist.”

“I’m not a psychologist, but that does seem applicable, yes,” George agreed with a fond smile for the boy who was so much like his daughter in many ways.

“There are moments where I think Dumbledore only sees the House, specifically the stereotypes, and not the people,” Neville offered diffidently. “Slytherins aren’t worthy of his notice, because they’re all dark and twisted and selfish. Hufflepuffs make useful tools because they’re really loyal and hard-working, but their sense of ethics can get in his way. Ravenclaws are brilliant thinkers, but many don’t take the additional steps to apply their knowledge in the real world. They prefer to stick to the theoretical. Meanwhile, Gryffindors tend to be brave and bold, and their tendency to rush in headlong makes them easy for him to manipulate towards his ends.” Neville shrugged. “He was hoping, planning, to do that with Harry. He doesn’t want tools that think too much for themselves, it seems.”

“Sod him,” Theo grumbled. “I’m not going back to Hogwarts, even if Voldemort is defeated and my Dad goes to Azkaban. Someone who sees the world like that shouldn’t be in charge of  _ anyone _ , let alone children.”

“Me too,” Draco said. “We can always go to another school. Or stay with home tutoring. I honestly think I’ve learned more here than all my years at Hogwarts.”

“You’re always welcome here,” George reminded them. “Always. Whether you’re able to go back to Hogwarts or even back home at some point. But I want to wait and see how you all do on your exams before we decide whether to continue this method of schooling until you all graduate. Though, of course, if we’re all still in hiding that will heavily influence things.”

“That sounds fair, I suppose,” Cedric said with a shrug. “I suppose my NEWTs will be a fairly strong test of our system. If I can get my credentials, it ought to mean the others can in their turn too.”

“None of us are slackers, when it comes to studying,” Draco said with a grin. “I think we can do it, but I guess if it looks like we’ll struggle with our NEWTs we can consider the other schools.”

“All my practice NEWTs are coming back good enough,” Cedric said. “Between those and my grades, I should be able to get a job. So far I’m hitting straight Os.”

“I actually think we’re all doing better,” Theo said. “We’re used to studying together, and we know each other's strengths and weaknesses.”

“Professor Snape says I’m getting an ‘O’ in Potions so far. I used to get a ‘P’ before I joined this group,” Neville commented. 

“Same for me with Herbology,” Draco agreed. 

“We’ll see,” George acknowledged. 

Meanwhile, Jean assembled a tea tray - gleefully assisted by the house elves in the kitchen - and took it up to the girls. She tried Hermione’s room first, and when she didn’t find them she knocked on Luna’s door.

“Come in,” Luna’s voice called.

Jean paused in the doorway, eyes wide as she saw trails of magic sparkles lighting the otherwise dim room. Hermione and Luna were giggling as they tried to outdo each other, drawing constellations of lightly glowing stars on the ceiling.

“That looks like fun,” Jean said with a smile. “I brought you your tea.”

“Thanks, Mum,” Hermione said.

Luna waved her wand and a small table shifted closer to the bed, where both girls lay sprawled. “You can put it there, if you’d like. You’re welcome to stay, of course.”

“No, I’ll leave you girls to yourselves,” Jean shook her head as she set the tray on the table. “It’s always good to have a chance to just relax and enjoy yourselves. I’d probably have a hundred questions to ask.”

“Hermione comes by it honestly, then,” Luna commented with a chuckle. “Thank you for the tea, Mummy Jean.”

“You’re welcome, dear,” Jean replied. With a fond smile, she let herself out of the bedroom.

“I really do love your mum, Hermione,” Luna commented idly as she concentrated on another complex constellation. “She’s not at all like mine was, but I find myself loving her all the same.”

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that, Luna,” Hermione reassured her. “Just like Harry can love Mum and Dad while still loving his birth parents.”

“Are you okay?” Luna asked gently. “I know the Headmaster said many upsetting things to Harry, but I would understand if you were glad they happened.”

Hermione sighed. “I shouldn’t. I should hate that Dumbledore did something so horrible. But…”

“Some part of you is happy. You’re grateful because it gave you a brother. You’ve been through something like this before...”

“Yeah,” Hermione breathed. “And then I feel guilty. Just like last time.”

Luna slid over to Hermione and cuddled her. “It’s understandable that you’re happy everything turned out; considering the multiverse, Dumbledore’s actions mostly damaged. But it also created, in spite of him.”

Hermione leaned into Luna’s embrace. “I know Harry understands. We’ve talked about it before. I would do nearly anything to help him be happy, even give him up if I had to. But I’m always glad to know I don’t have to, and I feel like I shouldn’t be glad for it.”

Luna shook her head. “You and Harry have built something amazing between yourselves, and then you turned around and offered it up to the rest of us. You have a wonderful heart, and you shouldn’t feel bad for enjoying your family. I know I don’t regret the things I’ve lived through, because it brought me here. But… might I make an observation?”

“Of course, Luna. Always.”

“Do you think it’s possible that Harry thinks you distrust his heart? Harry’s childhood did not determine his love for you. It simply gave you two an excuse.”

Hermione gave the question due consideration before shaking her head. “I don’t think that particular doubt is one either Harry or I suffer from. I know Harry loves me and our family, that he’s happy here. He knows I love him. I think… just sometimes, everything we have to cope with gets overwhelming.”

“What about Fred and Viktor?” Luna asked. “Is that overwhelming?”

“Of course not,” Hermione said. “Except… maybe. Sometimes. Maybe. I’m not the girl who gets the boy… or boys. Boys can be nerds and get the girl sometimes. Girl nerds… don’t. Not ever. I thought I was going to have to settle. And this whole thing…”

“It gives you hope that you never have to settle,” Luna agreed. Hermione gave her an inquisitive look. “I’m weird,” Luna shrugged. “People at Hogwarts would steal my things… they would tease me…”

“So coming here wasn’t just about getting away from your father?” Hermione realized.

“When my Mum died, Daddy kind of lost himself,” Luna explained. “It wasn’t his fault, really. They were in the same year at Hogwarts. Daddy says he fell in love with her the first time he saw her. They were best friends, then they started dating, then they got married and had me… and then Mum died, and Daddy started going on trips to avoid being home. People heard things about him, and assumed I was the same. 

“And then you found me and I started going to AA meetings and I realized that… I am my own person.”

Hermione gave her a small smile. “I’m glad you can be your own person, Luna. I enjoy and appreciate that person. I think…” she hesitated, a little shyly. “I know I haven’t said it before, but I think you’re my best friend. And my sister, but you’re both. Harry and I have always been so close, but there are some things he just doesn’t understand…”

“And there are some things that you don’t understand about him. And that’s okay. Fred and Viktor understand you. And you two don’t have to understand everything about each other to love each other.” Luna smiled. “I love you too, Hermione. I don’t think I ever had a best friend before knowing you.”

“I’ve never had a girl friend before either,” Hermione said. “It’s really nice that I have someone to talk to about girl things. Adella and Melody helped, but they’re mostly gone now...”

“You’re going to be of-age yourself in a year,” Luna pointed out. 

“It doesn’t matter much,” Hermione shrugged. “I definitely plan on continuing my studies after Hogwarts, I’m just not sure what I  _ want _ to study.”

“You’ve said you want to take on the political system within the Wizarding World,” Luna pointed out thoughtfully. “Have you thought about studying that sort of thing in the muggle world?”

“I’ve thought about so  _ many _ things, I think is my problem,” Hermione admitted sheepishly. “I’ve considered getting a muggle Doctorate to practice medicine, then using that to get a medi-witch certification and start advancing magical healing by combining the two. I have thought about getting a muggle degree in political science or law, or maybe both, in order to take on the political class here. I’ve thought about studying psychology, since the wizarding world has nothing comparable at all. I’ve thought about getting a degree in education, then a Mastery and teaching. There are just so many options, and they could all do so much good…”

Luna nodded. “Well, what if the rest of us decided to help? Which would you want to do most? I didn’t even know psychology was a field of study until you started bringing textbooks into the AA meetings. I might be good at it, if I decided to try. Theo and Blaise would likely excel at political science or law.”

“You can be good at anything you set your mind to, Luna,” Hermione insisted. She bit her lower lip as she thought. “I know I want to help people,” Hermione said. “I’m just unsure how. We do have books here on various careers I find interesting. We might as well meet as a group about it. I know not everyone is sure what they want to do, except for maybe Draco. I wonder if Sirius knows of any books around here about magical careers.”

“If not, we could invite Professor McGonagall or Professor Snape to the discussion,” Luna proposed. “The Heads of House all do career-option meetings with students who need help deciding on what classes to take NEWTs in.”

Hermione nodded, but they decided to leave the discussion for the time being. Most of the family was rather volatile, between Luna’s dream, the meeting with Dumbledore, and Harry’s trip out with Sirius and Remus and Ashe. When Harry returned, Hermione was extremely relieved to see him smiling again. He explained to everyone who’d listen how the Marauders had taken him to Godric’s Hollow, where he’d spent the first year of his life. He described it for everyone and enough people wanted to take a look that a post-dinner field trip was arranged so everyone could see the house.

Harry had only very briefly glossed over where his room had been as a baby on the house tour, and most had moved off with ease. Hermione and her parents, however, couldn’t help but stay. 

“So this was where…” George started, remembering that Lily had been killed right in front of Harry.

“Yes,” Hermione breathed in a staccato voice. “Not a pleasant room for anyone, but especially for Sirius and Harry. Sirius found Harry in the rubble that day, I can’t remember if I told you.”

“I’m fairly certain someone mentioned it at some point,” Jean admitted thickly. “It was good of Remus to restore it so neither of them would ever have to see it.”

George hugged both of his girls tightly. “And he has us now,” he reminded them. “We’ll have to remember to come here every Halloween, even for a little while, as long as Harry wants to. To remember James and Lily.”

“Sounds like a good idea, Dad,” Hermione agreed softly.

\-----

The next few days were spent on relaxation, entertainment and mutual support for everyone. As the household settled back into their routines of work and study, the sharp edge wore away from everyone’s tempers. Finally, things began returning to normal, though several of them quietly wondered when - or if - they would hear more from the Order about what had happened.

Sirius’ skill with his knitting needles had increased and he set to knitting countless scarves, hats, mittens, and blankets. Harry was a little curious to find out who all the knitted items were for. He found out the morning of the first snowfall at the manor, when each child had a huge package at their place at the breakfast table. Used to his family’s attitude towards him and Hermione, Harry and his sister tore into their package to find one of each item. Harry eagerly tried on the mittens and sighed when he found them warmer than any mittens he’d ever owned.

His friends, meanwhile all looked taken aback as they carefully unwrapped their packages. Harry couldn’t help but wonder if any of them had ever received a gift from the heart like this. Something homemade that took time and effort with no expectation of receiving anything in return. 

Draco was the first to crack, perhaps because he was also related to Sirius. He looked up with a tremulous smile and said, “Thank you, cousin. They’re… they’re great.”

Sirius grinned. “You’re welcome. All of you. It’s good for me to have something to help me relax, and it’s good for all of you to have warm outdoor clothes.”

“But… you made these,” Neville said, swallowing hard. “They’re… they’re even my favorite colors.”

“I paid attention, that’s all.” Sirius’ expression softened. “You’re good kids, and you’ve done something amazing together. You deserve to have special things from time to time.”

Luna already had her hat and scarf on, and was pulling on the rainbow-hued mittens. “They’re so warm!” She beamed at Sirius. “Thank you.”

Even Cedric was rather taken aback. “No one’s ever… made me anything before,” he admitted. Theo and Blaise nodded in agreement. He went on to explain to Harry and Hermione. “In the Wizarding World, making clothes is considered a menial job. Most purebloods like my father would rather pluck out their own eyeballs than do something so…”

“Muggle,” Theo supplied. 

“In the muggle world, giving someone something homemade usually signifies the depth of them caring for you,” Hermione explained. “Anyone can buy a gift for another person. That takes very little time. But to make something for someone, or to give them something that requires your time and energy…”

“My favorite gifts from my kids will always be things that they can do with me,” George piped up. “Things can be bought and sold, but time is a gift that can never be repurposed.”

“Yet another thing that’s better in the muggle world,” Draco agreed with a grin. 

When the rest of the teens seemed at a loss for words, Sirius chuckled. “Go out and enjoy the snow. That’s all the thanks I need, you using your gifts to have fun.”

A month passed. Snow covered the ground and it grew too cold to play Quidditch outside. Harry spent long hours in his room writing something in a notebook, though he refused to show anyone what it was. Viktor came over more often now that Quidditch practice required less time. Harry took to spending a lot of time in the library writing something, though he refused to show anyone what he was working on. Arthur healed, thankfully, without any long-term effects, and everyone worried, waiting for Voldemort’s next move. 

The next move, unfortunately, happened in December. 

It was early evening, the last day of term. Everyone was gathered in front of the fire, sipping hot cocoa and playing card games when the fire flared green. Everyone looked up and stared as Snape tumbled through. He lay on the ground, causing Jean to immediately get up. “Severus,” she called. 

Remus got up as well, feeling Snape’s pulse. “I think he’s just been knocked out.”

Those who’d been on the couch immediately cleared off of it. Sirius transfigured the couch into a bed and Remus levitated Snape onto it. Snape awoke with a start moments later. 

“Easy,” Jean cajoled him with a hand on Snape’s shoulder. “You’re at Potter Manor. You’re safe. Rest now. We can deal with whatever the problem is later.”

“Dumbledore,” Snape ground out.

“Hush,” Jean chided. “It will keep.”

Luna slipped out of the room and returned a few moments later with a full tea tray. “Would you like tea, Professor?” she asked tentatively. When he nodded, she fixed him a cup and passed it over. 

Snape levered himself partially upright so he could drink; Jean and Remus moved pillows to prop him up, and he allowed it with an inaudible sigh. He sipped his tea for a few moments in silence, giving Luna a small nod and smaller smile as he realized she’d prepared it the way he preferred his tea.

“Dumbledore found another Horcrux,” Snape explained. “But instead of destroying it, the fool put the damn thing on.”

“Why would he do that?” Jean asked, shocked.

Snape sighed. “It was the Gaunt family ring, which happened to contain the Peverell resurrection stone.”

“Forgive us for being ignorant, but what is this resurrection stone?” George queried. Theo gave him a quick run-down of the story. Harry corrected a few of the details, based on the memories he’d found in the chest. What Ignotus had told his son had primarily concerned the Cloak, but it was hard to tell the story without mentioning the other items.

“Dumbledore has always been rather obsessed with the true tale of the Peverells,” Snape stated. “I find myself relieved that he seems to have no knowledge of your chest. In either case, I believe the temptation of saving the resurrection stone was too great. He was able to do so, but the ring poisoned him. He will die within the next two years, if not sooner.”

Harry frowned. There was no love lost between himself and Dumbledore, but he didn’t want the man to die. “There’s nothing that can be done?”

Snape took another sip of tea, then sighed. “I could ease his way, but no. There’s no cure. And because of that, Dumbledore made me promise to kill him.”

The entire group hissed. “That’s not right,” Sirius snapped. “He shouldn’t be forcing you to help him commit suicide.”

“He wants to use his death to solidify my standing in the Dark Lord’s ranks,” Snape replied. “It’s sound logic.”

“You’re sacrificing yourself without thinking about what it would do to the people who love you, Severus,” Remus responded gently. “You’re a good man.”

“I deserve to pay for my choices,” Snape shot back. “Regardless, I’ve given an unbreakable vow.”

Jean frowned. “What makes it unbreakable?” 

“Either he keeps it, or he dies,” Sirius ground out. “What were you thinking, taking a vow like that?”

Snape snorted. “He’d already got me under one. I could not refuse.” The admission was low, monotone.

“And I assume he was going to keep this a secret as well,” Remus all but growled. “Let you take the fall, long-term, in order to have a spy in the short-term. But how would anyone in the Order trust your information if they all hated you for killing him?”

“There are ways around that,” Snape answered cooly. “Others to pass information through, so the source would not bring doubt of its veracity.”

“You do not deserve to be blamed for his death when the person in question has forced you into it,” Jean said, her voice icy with barely suppressed fury.

“What if we store the memory of the Vow?” Draco inquired. “We could keep ours of this discussion, and his of the meeting with Dumbledore, in the memory vault we found in the library. Then we would have evidence if anyone tried to victimize or prosecute him after Snake-face is gone.”

“Is there any way out of it?” Harry asked. “There has to be a loophole of some kind. Do you have to murder him? Killing and murdering are two different things.”

“The word murder was not part of the vow,” Snape answered with a sigh.

“So some sort of duel or battle? Or maybe if someone else kills him first, you wouldn’t be held to it?” Blaise finally spoke up.

“Or if you’re defending yourself or someone else,” Hermione interjected. “Dumbledore’s a threat to any of us, given that he’s threatening to kill Harry, or at least set things up to let him die.”

Sirius frowned. “The safest thing to do is for Snape to store the memories of the original vow as well as this latest one.”

“Amelia has been pretty fair as far as listening to us,” Remus added. “And testimony from Harry would be compelling.”

“I do not deserve to be ‘rescued’,” Snape argued, partially recovering.

“That’s what family does,” Harry said with a grin. “We rescue each other. That’s why we’re stronger together.”

“I. Do not. Deserve. To be  _ rescued _ ,” Snape repeated in a stern, near-anguished tone that startled the group into silence.

“Salvation doesn’t come to us because we deserve it,” Luna spoke up, recovering first. “It comes to us because we need it. We are all flawed human beings. We make mistakes. It’s what we do afterward that matters most.”

“If Merlin could forgive Morgana, after everything they battled through, why should you be any less so?” Theo added.

“Lily doesn’t hold a grudge,” Harry stated. “So why should we?”

Unable to find a flaw in their arguments, despite the fact that his heart refused to be swayed easily… Snape nodded slowly.

“We should come up with a few plans,” Harry said, “depending on what happens.”

As the winter holidays arrived, the group made plans to protect Snape from condemnation. Fred and Viktor both vowed to help however they could when they stopped by to take Hermione on a date outside the wards, all three under glamour. No one within the family was bothered by the notion of three teens dating each other, though they all expected it would be major news once it got out to the public.

After they extracted the memories from Snape, Harry spent many days exploring his more distant family memories in his free time now that they had more of it. Memories went back in the family for generations upon generations. For the first time, Harry got to see his grandparents. Not just as portraits, but as people. It took going back a few generations, but he got to see when the Potter Family was a much larger group of people. His great-grandfather had a younger sister, and his great-great grandfather was one of four children.

The Potters had never been inclined towards huge families, like the Weasleys, but it was fairly clear that his family hadn’t suffered from the infertility problems so many other pureblood families had. There were quite a few half-bloods in Harry’s family tree, and quite likely a few muggle-borns as well. The further back he went, the harder it got to tell the difference. Magic was magic, and because of so many diverse wizards and witches in his family tree, it was clear why his family magic was so strong.

He knew he only had a year and a half left before he was considered an adult in the Wizarding World, and he wasn’t sure what he wanted to do, except help change people’s way of thinking. Not for the first time did he entertain the thought of leaving the Wizarding World behind. He wasn’t the saviour the world believed him to become, and he wanted to be some place where he was ‘just Harry,’ for the most part.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Draco asked, cutting him out of his deep think. His best friend grinned. “Hermione’s teaching me stuff I can say, for when I join the RAF. I want to fit in with everyone.” 

“You used it correctly,” Harry confirmed, going back to staring out the window. “I don’t know, maybe I have too many career options. Sometimes I’m tempted to leave all of this behind, once Voldemort’s gone.”

Draco nodded, sitting himself across from Harry. “I get that. I’m tempted too.”

Harry felt the relief wash over him. “It’s good to know I’m not the only one.”

“You want me to be honest with you?” Draco asked.

“Have you ever not been honest with me?” Harry snarked. Draco threw a pillow at him, but not really that hard. Harry laughed, catching it.

“You’re still thinking about what’s expected of you rather than allowing yourself to do what you love,” Draco pointed out. 

Harry froze. Draco was right. He was still doing what Dumbledore wanted - for Harry to shoulder all the world’s problems. “You’re… you’re right,” he admitted. ”Do you think I shouldn’t go to Uni?” 

“You and Granger have talked about going to Uni since third year,” Draco chastised. “You shouldn’t give up on  _ that _ dream either. But what I meant was playing Quidditch. You’re one of the best seekers I’ve ever seen, and you obviously love it. You don’t even have to play for England. You’re practically fluent in French. I’m sure the French League would take a player of your caliber once you graduate.”

Harry could just picture it, practices between classes, flying professionally. He could probably ask Viktor about what it was like to schedule professional practice around classes and homework. It might be a little harder, given that muggle schools wouldn’t recognize the professional Quidditch league. But Uni also generally had a lot more leeway as far as scheduling classes. It could probably work…

“It could work…” Harry repeated the thought aloud. “It might be a good idea to talk to Viktor about scheduling practices around school…”

“I’m sure he’d be a good resource,” Draco agreed. “He might even know some people to introduce you to. Isn’t he coming to visit over hols?”

“I think so. Hermione wanted to see him, at least, and I don’t think Mum will let her go to Bulgaria alone just yet.”

Draco chuckled. “Less than a year, and she’ll be an adult who can go where she likes.”

“I don’t think that’s something Mum likes to think about,” Harry commented wryly.

“I think that’s just how Mums are, generally speaking.” Draco’s expression turned wistful.

“Katie’s actually spending part of the hols here too,” Harry revealed. “She’s of-age now, so her parents let her do what she wants.”

“I’m guessing they don’t know that she’s spending it with her formally dead boyfriend,” Draco teased.

“Likely not,” Harry smiled fondly at the thought of his girlfriend. They corresponded as regularly as possible, passing notes via Professors McGonagall and Snape, with some assistance from the Weasley twins. Everyone was fairly sympathetic to the fact that he couldn’t correspond publically with her because he was dead, whereas Hermione could with Fred. “I hope, when all this is over, I’ll impress them. Or, at the very least, I shatter their impression that I’m some sort of Chosen One.”

“I don’t think you have too much to worry about.” Draco grinned. “You’re friendly, funny, mostly light-oriented, not-dead and with a whole soul. All up-sides to any parent, I’m sure.” He grew sober. “It’s pretty serious between you and Katie, isn’t it.”

Harry shrugged. “Mum and Dad don’t really get it, but… Katie is one of the very few girls who’s never looked at me like I’m ‘The Great Harry Potter.’ Between that and the fact that we’ve been friends, and more, through some pretty… trying experiences… and she’s amazing herself. She’s thinking about trying out for a place in the International Dueling League. Professor Flitwick’s been coaching her this year and will be next year, too. She’s an incredible duelist. I’m really proud of her for going after what she wants to do.”

“You know, when you talk about her, or think about her, or breathe next to her you get this look on your face.”

“It’s called being in love, dumbass,” Harry snorted with laughter.

“No,” Draco shook his head. “What I mean is… it’s a good look for you.”

“Thanks.” Harry gave a small smile. “It’s a good feeling, too. And honestly, I’m not the only one. You notice that Hermione’s getting that look sometimes too?”

“Yeah. Though I don’t think I expected her, of all people, to end up in a triad relationship,” Draco said, chuckling. “Not so much the triad aspect, since the Grangers are all ridiculously open-minded by most standards, but with Viktor Krum and Fred Weasley, of all people…”

“Oddly, I think they’re all really suited for each other. All three are smart, but they compliment each other in different ways. I know Viktor’s parents know what’s going on, and Mum and Dad do too… but I think Fred’s nervous about his parents finding out. I don’t know why they’re so close-minded about their children.”

Draco cocked his head a little, deep in thought. “You remember what we taught you about the Prewetts?”

Harry nodded. “They were basically slaughtered, one-by-one, by Death Eaters…” Harry recalled. “The last Prewetts to be killed were Gideon and Fabian.”

“Mrs. Weasley was originally a Prewett. And if I’ve done my maths correctly, Gideon and Fabian were killed while she was pregnant with Fred and George. I think the Weasleys, like some families who survived the last war, live in fear because of what happened to them.”

Harry nodded, understanding and recalling a psychology book his therapist had recommended. “Muggles call it PTSD - post-traumatic stress disorder.”

“Muggles have a name for everything, don’t they,” Draco commented, amusement and a touch of envy in his tone.

“Pretty much,” Harry agreed. “There are a lot of sciences dedicated to figuring out why things work the way they do, or why people behave the way they do, or to discovering new things we haven’t seen before. I doubt most of them would accept, ‘it’s magic,’ as an explanation, even if we were demonstrating it in front of them.”

“To be fair, I would never have believed that muggles could build a plane that could go faster than a broomstick without experiencing it myself and having someone explain it to me. Now that I’m learning physics for my A-levels, I kind of understand why muggle-borns are so wary at first. There are so many things that magic counteracts or outright contradicts. Like gravity.”

“Sometimes, it’s the way magic breaks what muggles consider to be consistent rules of the world that can be intimidating. Other times, it’s frustrating that wizards have spent so long accepting ‘magic’ as a reason that no one has bothered to figure out why spells work the way they do,” Harry responded. “Potions and Herbology are about the only subjects that build on each other in a way muggle borns would consider remotely scientific. The plants and ingredients have certain properties, and introducing them to a potion at the right time and in the right way imparts those properties to the potion. But Charms or Transfiguration… well Transfiguration actively breaks the rules of physics in a lot of ways.”

Suddenly the front door opened, causing the doorbell to ring, alerting everyone in the house that someone was home. “Good afternoon, Cedric,” they heard George say.

Both teens got up and wandered into the front room. “Hey Cedric,” Harry greeted. “How was it?”

Cedric had apparated to Norway to send post to his father and mother, wishing them a Happy Christmas and to continue to reassure them that he was safe. Cedric gained a pained look on his face. “I might stop sending letters,” he admitted. “Mum’s begging me to come home and Dad… well, you saw him last year. He’s all about how things reflect on him. He’s threatened to disown me if I don’t come home.”

At that admission, Harry and Draco both gasped and Cedric hung his head. “If you want to go home, we’d understand,” George said gently.

Cedric shook his head definitely. “This is my family. If he wants to disown me, he can go right ahead. If he’s going to disown me for being my own man, I don’t think I want to be associated with him anyway.”

“Family forever,” Draco agreed.

A house elf appeared with a tray of cocoa for them, which Cedric took gratefully. “Sometimes I think my Mum sees me a little bit, but she won’t say anything against my Dad,” Cedric explained. “I don’t care about being disowned, I just want him to see me, even if it’s just for a moment.”

“They do,” George reassured them. “It’s something Jean and I faced when Hermione was born. We had to make the conscious decision to allow her to be herself.”

Christmas arrived in the blink of an eye. The table was laid down with tons of food, and Marcus, Adella, and Melody all came over for Christmas dinner, sharing news of the outside world - much of it of the more mundane sort, thankfully - with the family. Everyone visiting was staying the night, as the Weasleys, Augusta Longbottom, and Xenophilius Lovegood would be coming over on Boxing Day for tea. Neville, in particular, was nervous.

Harry was surprised to find himself being nervous as well. He hadn’t talked to Ron since they came out and admitted part of the truth about what had happened their second year and he didn’t know how Ron was going to react. He didn’t know how Percy was going to react either. Due to the nerves, the adults determined to make Christmas dinner fairly low-key. Rather than sitting at the table, they sat around the fire, talking and laughing about various family traditions at Christmas. Jean had even purchased several muggle books about various Christmas traditions around the world.

The house elves had still made all the traditional Christmas favorites, but they were arranged around the coffee table in a more buffet style, in portions small enough to snack on as they chose. It wasn’t quite like any Christmas celebration any of them had ever experienced before, but it was nice to have something new together too.

The adults headed to bed around ten, leaving the teens to themselves. “Ugh… I have to face my Gran tomorrow,” Neville groaned. He was sitting on the floor in front of the couch, his legs outstretched, his head relaxed against the couch cushions. 

“We’ll be with you,” Hermione reassured him.

“Oh I know,” Neville said. “This is something that’s been a long time coming. My family, after my parents… they became  _ exactly _ like the Dursleys, just hoping for the opposite outcome. I’m not that bad at magic, now that I have confidence… and my own  _ wand _ …”

“You’re  _ great _ at magic,” Draco corrected. “Just remember not to sell yourself short around her and you’ll be fine. You’re Neville Francis Longbottom.”

“‘Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind.’” Harry quoted. “I read that somewhere once… seems appropriate for all of us to remember for tomorrow.”

Everyone looked at Hermione. “Hey, I don’t know everything!” she exclaimed with some exasperation.

“I think he was an American economic advisor to… someone,” Harry recalled. “I think the quote was in one of my maths books.”

“I like the quote,” Theo said. “It’s a good reminder.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Un-Christmas everybody! Ho Ho Ho!
> 
> We love and appreciate any and all comments and reviews! Please do share your thoughts; we're always interested.
> 
> This story will post Mondays and Thursdays.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boxing Day with the Grangers and guests.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, many thanks to our faithful readers and commenters. We love hearing from you! We know we're a day late, but hopefully it's worth waiting for.

* * *

**Chapter 8**

Boxing Day dawned clear but cold. The adults had a quiet breakfast to themselves; they’d decided to let the teens sleep in, assuming they’d been up late the night prior. There were plenty of leftover scones, pastries and other similar options for breakfast for everyone regardless of how late they slept.

By late morning, everyone was ready to receive their guests. Mr. Lovegood arrived first, as an ally of theirs. Luna broke into a grin, then walked forward and hugged her father hard. “Hello, Daddy,” she greeted. 

“It’s good to see you,” Xeno replied. “You’ve grown.”

“A bit. Would you like to hear what I’ve been learning?” his daughter asked. Xeno nodded and then retreated to one side of the tables as they talked in low voices. 

The Weasleys arrived a short while later, the whole family plus Bill’s and Percy’s girlfriends. “Harry!” Forge greeted.

“Hermione!” Gred echoed.

“Arthur, it’s good to see that you’re all right,” Jean greeted. “Molly, it’s good to see you again.” 

“Thank you for the invitation,” Arthur said. “I must say, we were a little shocked when the truth about Harry came out, but we probably should have seen it coming.” 

“I admit we were rather… upset when we heard,” Molly added. “But once we processed it… what you went through last year…”

“We’re very lucky,” Jean said tightly as everyone stiffened. “That’s what we concentrate on.”

Ron stepped over to where Harry and his friends were. His eyes flicked over to Draco. “Malfoy…” he challenged.

“Weasel,” Draco responded tensely.

“Ron, don’t even try it,” Harry shot back, bodily getting between his former friend and current best friend.

Ron huffed in a breath, but then his shoulders sagged. “Sorry, I’m still… I’m still not used to remembering that you two are friends.”

“Let’s start over,” Draco offerend, extending his hand. “I’m Draco Malfoy. I’m a proud Slytherin, but I hate my father. I’m currently in hiding because my father’s trying to force me to become a Death Eater.”

Ron took the hand and shook it. “Ron Weasley,” he replied. “Proud Gryffindor. Sometimes I have too quick of a temper, but I’m working on it.”

“You’re keeping all these kids safe?” Penny asked, looking at the adults.

Sirius nodded. “And we will continue to do so for as long as it takes.”

“So all the missing students have been here all along?” Penny continued, eyes bright. “That’s  _ brilliant. _ ”

“It really is,” Cedric agreed, moving into the room to greet Penny. “Good to see you, Penny. I’m sorry we worried some of our friends, but it really did seem to be for the best.”

“Oh, I understand,” Penny agreed, giving Cedric a brief hug. “With the world believing Harry Potter is dead, hiding away as many of the sons of Death Eaters as are willing really is the best move. But the more people know a secret, the less likely it is to remain secret.”

“It broke our hearts to hear that you’d been killed,” Percy said softly, his gaze on Harry. “I’m really glad that you’re not dead.”

“Thanks,” Harry said, grinning when he spotted the engagement ring on Penny’s finger. “And congratulations.”

“Thanks,” Percy’s ears went slightly pink. Penny slipped a hand into Percy’s hand and leaned a head on his shoulder. 

The fire went green, interrupting the conversation as Augusta Longbottom stepped through. The woman stood before the teens, frowning sternly. “Neville,” she greeted formally.

“Gran…” Neville responded, mimicking her tone. 

“Please explain why you have done this,” Augusta demanded.

“Why do you want to know?” Neville challenged calmly. 

Augusta blinked and her jaw dropped for a moment. “ _ Excuse me _ ? Neville Francis Longbottom -”

“I understand your desire to know, but  _ why _ you want to know affects how I’ll tell you,” Neville interrupted in a rush.

“We thought you were dead,” Augusta admitted quietly. “You terrified us.”

Neville sighed, rubbing his eyes for a moment, as he tended to do when he needed to keep himself from saying something he shouldn’t. “I… I don’t understand that, I’m sorry.” Augusta opened her mouth, but Neville pressed forward. “You’ve never cared about me like that before. You only cared about the fact I’m not your son.”

Augusta gasped, only decades of proper etiquette keeping her mouth from hanging open in shock. Before she could recover enough to respond, though, Remus stepped up behind Neville and rested a hand on the lad’s shoulder.

“Madam Longbottom, we all know you grieved for your son as much as anyone else,” Remus said in a low voice. “But Neville is not Frank, nor does he deserve to be treated as lacking because he is not the son you lost. Do him the courtesy of hearing him out, as you would any other young wizard.”

Augusta narrowed her eyes and glared at Remus for a long moment, then nodded abruptly. “Perhaps we could have this discussion over tea, and with fewer eavesdroppers about,” she stated firmly. 

Neville, knowing his adopted family would back him up always, stood his ground. “I would be happy to sit down to tea, but I have nothing to say that cannot be heard by everyone in this room.” Neville’s manners were impeccable, far more formal than he’d ever been while living in Potter Manor with the Grangers and his friends, but he retreated into formality as the safest way to deal with his grandmother.

“Why don’t we adjourn to the dining room for tea,” Jean interjected tactfully. “There is no need to split anyone off from the group, but I am sure there will be several conversations happening around the table.”

Augusta sniffed but nodded her acceptance. Sirius stepped in and, with a gallant bow, offered his arm to the older woman. She allowed him to escort her from the room, too polite to refuse the gesture of courtesy.

Most of the group sat at one end of the table while Neville sat with his Grandmother at the other. He insisted on also having Harry and George there, as well, to help him. Augusta hadn’t looked happy, but she hadn’t said anything about it. Once everyone else was deep in discussion, Augusta started speaking. “I did not realize you thought I did not see you as my grandson.”

“What am I supposed to think?” Neville asked. “Everything I do, I’m compared to him. You didn’t even buy me my own wand. You just handed me Dad’s. Didn’t even check to see if it was compatible or not. After doing a little reading about wand lore, I’m rather surprised I didn’t seriously hurt someone in my first year.”

“It’s not an unheard of practice. Certain family wands get passed down from generation to generation,” Augusta offered. “However, I apologize for my error… parents and grandparents are human and we do make mistakes.” 

“This isn’t just about…” Neville stopped and took a deep breath. “You  _ let  _ them hurt me. I was dropped from the third story, tossed into the Irish Sea, had Aunt Astrid’s dogs set on me… you let them try to beat magic into me, all while you told me that I wasn’t living up to the family name. That my  _ father _ would be ashamed of me. Of  _ course _ I left. Do you have any idea how long it took for me to understand that wasn’t what love looks like?” 

Augusta stared at Neville, clearly unused to Neville being so vocal.

“I used to tell myself it was all done out of love,” Neville’s voice dropped, becoming softer. “And then I met the Grangers for the first time. I saw the way they took care of Hermione and Harry. The way they look at them. I saw affection and praise given freely for the first time, and I realized that I had never had that.” He paused, emotion choking his voice. “Or at least, it hadn’t been given to me in so long that I couldn’t remember it.”

“I haven’t had the experience of losing a child and being left to raise their son,” George said as the silence stretched out. “My children are barely old enough to have children, and they haven’t finished school yet. But twice now, we have had a taste of that kind of grief. Once Harry’s third year and again last June. It wouldn’t be difficult to get lost in it, to want to replace the person who’s gone. But no two people will ever be exactly the same. Even identical twins,” he gestured down the table towards Gred and Forge, “are not the same person, no matter how alike they might be. They have different strengths, different desires, and different loves.”

“It’s easy to regard the dead as perfect, without flaws or weaknesses of their own,” Harry ventured. “Look at public opinion of my first parents and that’s really all the proof you need. Everyone thinks they were this perfect couple, and that even though they’re dead I’ve lived some kind of perfect, charmed life. But I didn’t even grow up in the wizarding world. I would imagine it’s very similar to think of someone in long-term hospital care in a similar fashion.”

“I can’t be my father,” Neville sighed. “I don’t even remember him well enough to try. But the point is that I shouldn’t have to. I should’ve been accepted for myself, powerful magic or not. And I wasn’t. So no, I didn’t think I would be missed if I didn’t go back to Longbottom Hall. No one there ever wanted me as much as they wanted my father back. And I refuse to continue living that way.”

Augusta sighed. “I understand,” she finally said. “I… I apologize for my part in it. I was complicit to my family.”

Neville’s face softened. “It’s not okay, but I do forgive you. It couldn’t have been easy, having to raise me after what happened.”

“No, but that wasn’t your fault either,” Augusta sighed again. “For a while, I hoped it would be temporary. That one of the healers would figure something out and bring your parents back to themselves. But as the years passed…” She trailed off with a shrug.

“It’s easy to fall into bad habits when you’re in the middle of the situation,” George acknowledged, nodding.

Augusta regarded George quietly for a moment, then queried, “I have to ask… how did you come to have custody of Harry?”

George looked at Harry for permission, and Harry cleared his throat. “I know my parents were close with Neville’s, and that we were born hours apart, but I don’t know if you ever heard much about my mother’s side of the family…”

“Alice and Frank told me bits and pieces,” Augusta said slowly. “Some story about your aunt’s wedding…”

“After my parents were murdered, Dumbledore placed me with my Aunt and Uncle,” Harry explained. “They, well, they made me live in a cupboard, and I cooked all their meals and cleaned the house…” Augusta properly gaped at him, forgetting decorum all together. “My first year Hermione noticed the signs that I’d been abused and wrote to her parents.”

“It’s illegal to abuse a child in any way in the Muggle world,” George explained. “We probably should have gone through a proper court case, but our primary priority was to get Harry out of there, so we offered to take guardianship of him.”

“To deal with the blood wards that Dumbledore set up, Hermione and I blood-bonded,” Harry concluded. “And then the Grangers legally adopted me.”

“That explains a great deal,” Augusta said, nodding thoughtfully, turning to George. “So when you say you had a taste of the grief…”

Harry stiffened as George’s face changed to an expression Harry’d never seen before. “The day of the third task was the worst day of my life,” he told Augusta. “I still have nightmares about it. We’d do anything for our children, and Harry’s ours.”

Cedric had paled significantly at the words ‘third task’ and stood up abruptly, halting all other conversation. Harry himself couldn’t help but remember the graveyard and passing out in that alley in the country after sending his message to his sister. He shuddered at the memory. Hermione put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. 

“It’s not something any of us like to remember or talk about, Gran,” Neville explained. “For those of us at Hogwarts… we thought Harry was dead for about twelve hours before they managed to get a message to us that he was all right. I’ll explain it some other time… Christmas is a time for happy feelings.”

Augusta Longbottom nodded. Conversations started up again, and Cedric eventually sat again, though he was far tenser than he’d been before.

“Remember how I came home for hols first year?” Neville shared as an awkward silence started to grow. “I couldn’t figure out how Harry didn’t know anything about our world. He approached every little thing like he’d never seen it before.”

Augusta nodded. “I told you it was likely that Harry’d simply been extremely sheltered, much like you. Dumbledore simply told us that he was safe. I remember Alice was practically inconsolable, offering to take Harry in.”

Harry had a flash of anger towards Dumbledore before he contained it. It was still hard for him to hear about all the people who’d been willing to take him in. All the friends his parents had, all the families that might have been his. His life, if you could call it that, at the Dursleys had been so easily avoidable. Though given the circumstances, perhaps it was best that the Longbottoms hadn’t taken him in - Madam Longbottom would’ve had two small boys to care for after what happened to Neville’s parents, rather than one. That would likely have been even more difficult for Neville’s gran than just having to care for Neville.

“Safe,” George harumphed. “Well, I suppose in the sense that the Death Eaters didn’t find him as a child it would be true. But I wouldn’t call any child in that household safe. When I think about how much work we had to do, trying to teach Harry that adults could be trusted…” He shook his head and sighed. “It was more than worth the effort we put into it, but there are moments I wish it hadn’t been necessary. Children shouldn’t be afraid of the adults in their lives.”

“It got better, Dad,” Harry reminded him. “I’m okay. Neville’s okay. We’re all okay.”

“Professor Snape’s helped with that a lot,” Neville offered. “Especially after he learned that looming in our blind spots made us liable to make mistakes.”

“Neville hasn’t blown up a cauldron in years, mostly because of that,” Harry said. “Honestly, I’ve gotten better myself. When my Uncle did that to me… usually that meant something…” he stopped, looking at Madame Longbottom’s and his Dad’s faces. Madame Longbottom looked horrified, while his Dad looked rather murderous. “My point is, we fixed the problem.”

“After Harry got adopted, they started a group for kids like us at Hogwarts,” Neville explained. “It was a bit rough at first, but once we realized that we all had things in common… having someone to talk to who’s been through it too has really helped.”

Augusta nodded, crying silently. “I don’t know if you could ever forgive me for… I’d like to get to know my grandson some day. My  _ real _ grandson.”

Neville looked pensive for a moment, then extended his hand to his Gran. “I’m Neville Longbottom.”

“Augusta Longbottom,” she replied, shaking Neville’s hand.

Harry knew that the others would have a harder time with their parents and the Wizarding World at large. Cedric, especially, would. It was easier to believe abuse when it was broken bones rather than words. But still, it was always nice to see one of them repairing the damage done to them. Progress was progress.

As they rejoined the rest of the group, everyone was talking about OWL and NEWT test prep in comparison to A-Level test prep. So far, only Hermione, Harry, Theo and Draco were going to be taking the A-Levels, but the others wanted to leave their options open at least. Arthur and Xeno were hanging on every word, while Molly was a bit more skeptical, and Augusta kept looking at Neville with sheer pride. As they explained the plan to bring the Wizarding World into the soon-to-be 21st century, Augusta expressed how proud she was of them. 

Neville also proudly showed off the water bottle they’d marketed, which was steadily growing in demand. Over the summer, the Bulgarian National team players had seen Viktor’s and they’d all put in an Owl Order for one. From there, other teams were ordering them and fans were starting to as well. 

“You’re telling me that muggles have things like this?” Arthur said, fascinated as he inspected it.

“More or less,” Harry said. “Ours is just powered by magic rather than technology. Most muggles don’t want magical solutions to their problems. They’ve gone this long solving their issues with technological advancements. They even can solve things that magic can’t.”

Augusta, Molly, and Arthur had scoffed lightly at that, but Xeno asked, “How so?”

“Accio Pen,” Harry summoned. The pen flew into his hands. “Muggles haven’t used quills in ages. Instead, they use what’s called a pen. This one has a refillable ink cartridge, but others have a replaceable cartridge or are replaceable all together. No need for ink pots or having to sharpen your quill constantly.” Arthur and Molly had seen pens a few years ago when Jean demonstrated, but it was new to the others. They’d forgotten about them, though, since quills were so much a part of their daily lives.

“We’ve also figured out a process called recycling, where used goods like old paper, newspaper, cardboard boxes and such are broken down and remade into new products,” Hermione added. “We don’t just vanish the newspaper when we’re done with it; we send it back to be made into new paper. It saves trees.”

“Muggles study various forms of science. They study everything about ourselves and the world around us,” Harry continued. “They can even predict the weather, though it’s more accurate within a few days than trying to predict a week or more away.”

“The Wizarding World has missed the last couple hundred years of muggle history,” Draco added with a laugh. “A lot of the assumptions we’re taught as kids are just flat-out wrong.”

“We were all rather surprised when Hermione and Harry started to teach us just how out-dated our Muggle Studies class is,” Theo added with a rueful grin. “The professor has a radio that’s a lot like our Wireless, but the one the Grangers have at their house is much more compact as well as having more options and better sound quality. And they have the ability to record images to watch at home, either broadcast like the Wireless or on a device they call a ‘tape’ that can be watched on a device to play the tape. Like going to a play, but you don’t need the actors there every time someone wants to watch it.”

“The Grangers took us out to the Muggle world a few years ago,” Melody chimed in, grinning. “We went to the Air & Space Museum, and then to see a couple of films - recorded stories, but on a big screen for a larger audience. It was fascinating, and we discovered that Hermione can sing.” Melody winked at the younger girl, who blushed a little even as she smiled.

“We have some muggle Christmas albums we can put on later, if everyone’s interested,” Hermione offered. “We haven’t figured out how to get the telly to work inside magical wards, though, otherwise I’d offer films. We have several at our muggle home.”

“Can’t get the eckeltricity working here?” Arthur asked curiously.

“Electricity is how basically all muggle technology is powered, but lacking that power that isn’t the only difficulty,” Luna tried to explain. “Electrical fields and magical fields don’t really work on the same level, and magical warding tends to interfere with the signals. It’s a complicated problem, but we think we can devise ways around it. Possibly with runic protections for the electronics.”

Augusta sat back in her chair, listening to the various descriptions and explanations with a fond smile and a hint of wonder in her eyes. “We should have done something like this years ago. Decades, even. You children have learned so much that none of my generation ever bothered with. To think that you could have all grown up with a blend of muggle and magical wonders…”

“Our society tends to encourage muggle-borns and half-bloods to focus on the magical world rather than returning to the muggle world,” Remus said in a low voice. “It’s not even terribly difficult, given that for most muggle-borns magic is truly amazing. To have a new generation actively trying to bridge that gap, despite the pressures of society… it is impressive.”

“They’ve made me realize that even in my rebellious teen years, embracing muggle culture and music, I only scratched the surface,” Sirius mused. “I let Lily tell me about telephones and automobiles, but I still didn’t give the muggles enough credit for inventing those things in the first place. Magic had been doing those things for generations.”

The group continued having a truly enjoyable afternoon. At one point, someone turned on the wireless and faint tones of music could be heard as they talked. The sun was setting and they were just discussing dinner when a high-pitched tone interrupted the music. 

“That’s the emergency alert,” Arthur said, grabbing his wand and turning up the sound. Everyone froze as a voice came through the speaker. “We apologize for interrupting the current programme, however we regret to inform you that there has been an attack on the Bulgarian National Quidditch Stadium during the match between Bulgaria and Japan.” Hermione gasped and reached out a hand for Fred, who instantly grabbed it. “Four people have been confirmed dead and dozens have been injured. At this time, Aurors believe this to be an attack led by rogue English Death Eaters. We will have more for you during our news hour at nine o’clock.”

“Oh my god,” Jean breathed. 

“Merlin…” Sirius said at the same time. 

Hermione let out a choked sob as her knees buckled. Gred caught her, looking pained. Harry wished they’d given Viktor a coin. Now it was a waiting game. Was Viktor dead?

“Let me go in,” Ashe offered. “I’ll go find out what they know and send the info back via Patronus.”

“Be safe,” Sirius said softly. “I love you.”

Ashe hugged Sirius tightly. “I love you too,” she murmured.

A house elf appeared and put a tray of tea with cups on the coffee table. Forge poured one for Hermione, who was practically inconsolable, then passed it to Gred. 

“Was it this bad when I…” Harry started to ask his Dad. 

“Yes,” George said tightly. 

Harry, who rarely initiated hugs, hugged his father. “I’m so, so…. I’m so sorry,” he stammered.

“Viktor was the Durmstrang champion,” Draco said, sitting near to Hermione. “There were hundreds of people there and he had a  _ Firebolt _ . He’s probably fine. I bet the aurors just have that place locked down, and we’ll be his first stop once he can leave.”

“Draco’s right,” Harry said. “Voldemort probably wasn’t even there. A few low-level Death Eaters would be no match for a Firebolt.” Despite his own fears, he tried his best to reassure his sister with logic. It seemed to calm her some, as she stopped sobbing quite so loudly.

“Drink some tea, love,” Gred murmured to Hermione as he held the mug to her lips. She took a few sips obediently, trying to breathe slow and stop crying. “He’ll be all right.”

“I’m making him a coin as soon as he gets back,” Hermione whispered harshly. “I  _ hate _ this.”

“We all do,” Harry agreed. “And I don’t think anyone will mind if you tie him into the coin network.” The group of students all shook their heads.

“Coin network?” Augusta asked softly, leaning over to George.

“The kids all have charmed coins that let them communicate. After the… incident… with Harry last June, Hermione added locator charms to all of them. So they can find each other if necessary,” George replied. “I’ll admit, I have no idea how they function. But they work, and that’s all that really matters.”

“That’s brilliant,” Arthur commented, having overheard the quiet exchange. “Quite complex, I would imagine. But I suspect there’s very little these young people can’t accomplish if they’re all working together.”

“Why don’t we work on building Viktor’s coin now,” Luna suggested, moving to sit on the floor in front of Hermione. “It will give you something else to think about for a little while.”

“It saved Harry,” George whispered so only Augusta could hear. “After… after he escaped… he’d been stabbed in the side and was bleeding out. He barely had the strength to send Hermione a message that he was alive, so Remus went and got him. He would have bled out in that alley, and we would never have known that we could have saved him.”

Augusta’s face changed. “When Frank… and Alice… they had sent out an alarm to the Order, but there’d been another Death Eater attack, involving kids, so it took them awhile to get to them. When they came to me and told me that Frank and Alice were alive but were… I was actually relieved.”

“It’s understandable to feel that way,” George agreed. “Harry… I don’t know how much Neville has told you, but he’s come very close to dying four times in four years. I could understand being grateful. If Harry were alive but permanently disabled, I’d probably feel the same way.”

“Frank and Alice… they don’t speak, don’t really seem to recognize anyone,” Augusta offered in a low voice. “But they turn their heads at the sound of my voice, and Alice gives Neville sweet wrappers whenever we visit. I often think… they may not be able to respond, but they do recognize us on some level…”

“I apologize if this seems rude, but have you tried a muggle doctor or therapist with them?” George asked.

“No. If I’m being quite honest, it never crossed my mind as a viable option.”

“Medical science has come a very long way. If you’d like, Jean and I may have a couple of contacts who would run some tests without asking too many questions we couldn’t answer about magic,” George suggested.

“I… will think about it,” Augusta conceded, her expression thoughtful.

Percy, Penny, Bill and Fleur, meanwhile, had circled around Harry, Hermione and Luna to watch as they worked on creating a new coin for Viktor. “How did you come up with this?” Penny asked curiously.

Draco answered for them, so Hermione’s distraction wouldn’t be interrupted. “It was Hermione’s idea. Originally they just sent short messages, much like a muggle device called a pager. Jean said a lot of doctors carry them so they can be reached in an emergency. Every time we had a new idea, she would start making adjustments. First we made them display chosen nicknames, so we couldn’t be identified if someone found or stole one. Then she modified them so we could send group messages from several people. Then we adjusted them so they could be directed to different people. Professors Snape and McGonagall each have one, so we can send messages to the whole group, just to the students, just to the teachers, that sort of thing.”

“Hermione and Harry can also message Gred and I separately from the rest of you,” Forge added. “And I’m pretty sure they can contact just each other without involving the rest of us.”

Draco nodded. “And now they also have locator charms, so the person holding one can apparate to the location of another with the right activation phrase. It’s how they found Harry last June.”

“That’s incredible,” Penny breathed.

Percy’s expression lit up. “Do you think she’d like help to patent the process and the product? Imagine all the possible uses; the aurors alone would probably pay her weight in gold for a set of those connected to each other.”

“The Order would certainly benefit from a set as well,” Bill agreed. “Not everyone can cast a Patronus, and it can also be risky because they’re not exactly subtle when they find their target recipient.”

Forge considered their comments. “We would have to find a way to allow people to attune the coins for themselves,” he began slowly. “So far, Hermione has made each one with an individual in mind and they’re code-phrase activated, though they do also recognize a person’s magical signature. More so now than when she first made them.”

“Harry’s and Hermione’s coins have always been the most complex,” Theo said, joining the conversation. “She tests her changes on theirs first, before modifying anyone else’s.”

“And she has been teaching the rest of you how to modify them?” Percy asked.

Theo shrugged. “Not really. Luna helps relate muggle ideas to existing magical options, and they just sorta work through options until something works. Taking Arithmancy helped a lot, actually; sometimes she and I work through variables in making her ideas functional. But Hermione, and to some extent Harry, think about things differently than the rest of us.”

“They’re not used to the way magic has always done things, so they don’t consider that some things might not be possible,” Draco clarified. “They lack our preconceptions about the way things work with magic. Luna’s similar; she’s always been outside the box anyway, and the muggle perspective often sparks her imagination.”

“If there are Arithmantic equations for how they work, though, someone else could duplicate the process as long as they understood it,” Percy said thoughtfully. “I really do think they should patent it.”

“When Gred and I have our own shop, we want to sell a simpler version,” Forge agreed with a grin. “It’s both practical and prank-able.”

“With Hermione and Harry getting a portion of the profits, of course,” Gred added, his voice still slightly strained. 

Jean crossed the room and touched Gred on the shoulder, knowing he needed a distraction as much as Hermione. “Come help me fix more tea for everyone?” she asked quietly. It wasn’t much, but it was better than sitting and doing nothing.

Gred gave her a grateful smile and followed her to the kitchen. The house elves were plenty busy working on dinner for such a large group and had come to an agreement with Jean about the kitchen, so the humans were able to go about their tasks undisturbed. Gred found himself choosing mugs, filling pitchers of cream and arranging a variety of Christmas biscuits on a platter.

Unable to help himself, Gred made sure Hermione’s favorite biscuits were bracketed on either side by his favorites and Viktor’s. Some part of him hoped the symbolism would transfer into the real world as well.

“He’ll be all right,” Jean murmured in a soothing tone. Gred melted into Jean’s hug as easily as Hermione would have; it was so different than his mother’s hugs, and somehow still the same. It felt safe. “Viktor is a skilled wizard and a fast flier. You know he’ll do everything possible to get back here to you as soon as he can.”

“I know. I think… we just thought he’d be safe, away from England…”

“I understand. George and I thought you kids would all be safe at school, that first year or two. But things don’t always go the way we’d like them to.”

“I just want him to come home,” Gred whispered.

“He will. Have faith in him.” Jean let out a slow breath, focusing on being strong for the young man in her arms.

Two tense, seemingly endless hours later, the Floo flared green and Ashe returned. Before anyone could speak, though, it flared a second time and deposited Viktor - looking tired and stressed, but mostly unhurt - on the hearth. 

Drawn upon pure instinct, Gred made a beeline for Viktor, Hermione at his heels, and kissed him hard.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reactions to our lovely triad. And the rest of Boxing Day.

This just exemplifies Fred and Hermione together. So happy.

* * *

**Chapter 9**

**** Hermione and Gred were too wrapped up in checking over Viktor to notice any of the reactions from people behind them. Viktor patiently allowed them to check over him, murmuring that he was alright.

“Where have you been?” Hermione accused Viktor. “Do you have any idea how  _ worried _ we were when we heard over the wireless -” She stopped and whimpered. 

“Hermione,” Viktor said softly. “Sit down, please.”

“I’ve been sitting for hours,” she refuted, still anxiously searching out any possible injuries, keeping in physical contact with him to reassure herself. “I need to make sure you’re okay!”

“I am fine,” he repeated, catching her in his arms and trapping her against his chest for a tight hug. “Relax. I am here, and I am vell. I did not mean to vorry you so, but the aurors allowed no one to leave until just a short vhile ago.”

A glance at Gred and the two men maneuvered themselves and Hermione to the nearby loveseat; Hermione, being the smallest, wound up half in each of their laps as her boyfriends sat as close together as physically possible without being on top of one another. As they settled together, the magical glow of a diagnostic spell shimmered around Viktor; Remus put his wand away quietly, pleased both with the result of the spell and the way Gred and Hermione relaxed as Viktor’s assurances were confirmed.

Once the trio were calmer, Luna subtly lifted the silencing spell she’d placed on Molly. “Frederic Gideon Weasley, what do you think you’re doing?!” Molly all but shrieked once she realized she could speak again. She seemed to still be stuck in place, but her face was furious. 

Everyone froze. Surprising to a few, but not most, Charlie stepped forward. “He’s spending time with the people he loves, Mum. He’s reassuring himself that someone he loves who was near a Death Eater attack wasn’t injured.”

“But this isn’t  _ normal _ ,” Molly argued. “He should be finding someone who’s available, not…”

“It’s normal for most of the international wizarding community,” Bill said. “Polyamorous relationships aren’t the only kind of relationship, but it’s not uncommon out there. Besides, they love each other. They’re not hurting anyone.”

“While it was a surprise when Hermione told us,” George offered. “They really do love each other.”

Molly glanced at Arthur. “Arthur?” she prompted.

Arthur looked pensive. “Fred, how long has this been going on?” 

Gred sighed. “That’s… complicated. We’ve all liked each other since the Yule Ball, and after what happened to Harry… I realized that I didn’t want to waste any more time being afraid of what people might say about me.”

“Half the wizarding world has things to say about me being muggle-born. If the other half want to take issue with me in a triad relationship with two men, well, I think I can deal as long as the people I care about stand by me,” Hermione said dryly, suddenly much calmer as it became clear how she would once again have to defend herself and her choices to someone who didn’t know any better. This, at least, was familiar ground.

“You know we will,” Luna said, quickly seconded by Harry and Draco and followed by the rest of the Manor residents.

“Ve are better as three,” Viktor put in softly, his accent thickening somewhat with emotion. “No need to choose vhen ve all can share. I care for Hermione and I care for Fred. Different, but the same. Love is love, in any form. If ve are all happy, vhat is vrong vith that?”

Arthur looked at his furious wife, then turned to Jean and George for their opinion. Before they could answer, though, Sirius stepped in. 

“Viktor is right. Triad relationships can work, and if everyone is happy and they all work to keep from hurting each other, there’s nothing actually wrong with it.”

“Listen Mum, Dad. I know the heteronormative thing has worked for you. But there are other options, and this is one that works for us,” Gred said firmly, drawing himself up. “If you can’t accept that, accept me and us, as we are… then we will keep our distance so you don’t have to deal with us. Hermione’s family, and Viktor’s family, they all support us. If you can’t, then we’ll stay away.”

Bill stepped forward without hesitation. “We support you, Fred,” he declared. Fleur, Charlie, Percy, Penny, and Forge were all nodding.

“I support you too,” Ginny spoke up, smiling as she made the decision for herself. “You’re my brother, and I love you. If you’re happy then I’m happy for you.” Her brother deserved her support; as much of a pain as the twins could be, she knew they loved her. More so, they treated her like a person and not just their annoying baby sister. Ginny had never been as close to Harry and Hermione as she’d hoped, partially because of Ron’s idiocy but also because the pair had always been a little beyond her, maturity-wise. She had hopes, though, that she might become part of their circle of friends now that she was older and more mature. Standing with her brother’s trio relationship seemed like a good start to her.

“Same here,” Ron said, though he looked rather unsure of what was going on and his voice wasn’t nearly as solid as it normally was. Hermione smiled brightly at him. “Just don’t turn any more of my stuff into spiders.” The members of the AA looked at each other curiously as Ron, Gred, and Forge chuckled at the obviously inside joke.

“We promise,” Gred swore.

Arthur looked at the trio thoughtfully. “Look, I’m not saying I’m against this, but a wizard’s or witch’s value in our society is only as good as their reputation, and both of us have seen plenty of reputations destroyed because of a tryst. It’s an unfortunate side-effect that your value affects everything from your employment to your… prospects. And I know that you aren’t going to follow down the same path that your mother and I did. I just want to know that you’re considering the impact of this.”

Gred flushed but glanced to Viktor and Hermione. Their smiles eased him and he smiled back. “I’m not worried about ‘prospects’ at all. I couldn’t ever want anyone else; I mean, we’ve only all really been together for about six months, but… The feelings have been there for longer.” Turning back to face his father, Gred’s smile grew. “I think this is it for me, Dad. And if we can’t be accepted in Wizarding Britain because of it, well… we have other options.”

“My mother would be most pleased if we settled in Bulgaria,” Viktor offered with a small grin.

“We have family in France. There’s a Potter property there, too,” Jean informed the Weasleys, many of whom were unaware of those facts.

“Hermione is my sister and a Potter by magic,” Harry spoke up. “I wouldn’t have any problems with it, if they chose to take over the manor in France. She has full access to it already.”

Hermione scoffed. “I’m not about to walk away from Wizarding Britain when it needs me, but if they make our lives difficult after the war is over… well, I’m sure we can Floo between the manors, so I could always pass through here to commute, I suppose. And if I’m really unwelcome because I have two amazing gentlemen as partners, well, I’m sure other communities would be more welcoming.”

Molly looked flabbergasted and Arthur still had a look of mild concern. 

“To be fair, even with wizards with so-called ‘sterling’ reputations mostly have them because they’ve paid people off,” Draco offered. “It’s better to be happy and loved than to have a good family reputation, believe me.”

“I agree,” Harry said quietly. “Uncle Vernon’s reputation in the Muggle world was stellar, mostly because he was just great at acting. And my birth family’s never cared too much about ‘reputation’, so it’s not like Hermione’d be breaking off from family tradition. Though I can’t wait to see the look on her face when people tell her that she should listen to her little brother because he’s Head of the Family.”

Hermione laughed. “I’ve never let you tell me what to do before and I’m not about to start,” she teased Harry. They exchanged a look, both seeing the tension in the other person’s eyes.

“I think Molly and I should go home and discuss this in private,” Arthur said sagely. “Ron, Ginny, Bill’s in charge.” Ron and Ginny nodded at their father, everyone silent until the pair left.

“Not to change the subject,” Ron interjected once the green flames died down, turning to Harry. “But there’s something I don’t get. How are you so big?” 

At fifteen, Harry was neck-and-neck with nearly sixteen-year-old Ron height-wise and Harry was starting to fill out, muscle-wise. He was definitely bigger than Ron, overall, now, though not as big as Viktor. Harry knew from Gred and Forge that Ron had stopped growing, while Harry probably had a couple of years left.

“Sorry?” Harry asked.

“You were such a shrimpy kid our first year, I was like six inches taller than you. How are you bigger than me?

Harry looked from Ron to his parents and back. “I thought I explained… I was adopted.”

“Yeah, but you were with family before that too…” Ron started. 

Harry immediately blushed, realizing what Ron didn’t understand. “It’s not really a topic anyone really likes to talk about,” he mumbled. Ron blinked, obviously confused, and Harry sighed deeply. “The Dursleys used to starve me,” he admitted. “A common punishment for so much as breathing wrong was ‘no meals.’ I had gone a couple months eating only one meal a day when you first met me.”

Ron and Ginny both paled. Draco and Sirius looked rather murderous. “We’re all very glad the Grangers adopted you, Harry,” Charlie said with a tight voice. “And with that, I think we should stay away from serious topics. Now, did I spy a Quidditch practice pitch on the property?”

The majority of the group brightened and Harry nodded; they all grabbed their cold weather clothes to head outside. Most of the Manor’s residents wore their chunky and clearly homemade gifts from Sirius, which actually seemed to make Ron less self-conscious about his own homemade knit-wear for outdoors. It felt less out-of-place for him if everyone had similar items.

Viktor and Fred both glanced at Hermione, knowing she didn’t care for the game. She stood on her toes to kiss them each and then, tucking their scarves into their cloaks for them, shooed them off to follow the other quidditch enthusiasts outside. Ginny shot a hopeful look at Bill, who grinned at her. She grinned back before taking off after the boys.

“What was that about?” Jean asked curiously.

“Ginny loves quidditch, but Mum generally wants her to be more ladylike,” Bill explained. “Since Mum isn’t here, I’m not going to give her grief about wanting to have fun.”

Jean chuckled. “I certainly hadn’t intended to stop her.”

A few minutes later, Charlie came back inside. “Too many players. So I got them organized and figured I’d let them play. They’ll come get me if someone wants to switch out.”

Of the household teens, only Hermione, Luna and Blaise remained indoors. Blaise normally enjoyed quidditch, but his pensive expression prevented anyone from suggesting he join the others. 

“We’re sorry about our parents,” Charlie added. “They… Their intentions are good, they just don’t really get ‘it’.”

“To be fair, Mum disapproves of Fleur as well, so it’s not like she’s happy with her heteronormative children either,” Bill said, rolling his eyes.

“Forgive me for saying so, but your mum doesn’t seem to be happy with any of you unless you’re doing exactly what she wants you to do,” Hermione said with a sigh. “She doesn’t approve of me because I have too many muggle ideas. She doesn’t approve of Fred because of our relationship choices, though I don’t think she ever approved of the twins’ life choices anyway. She doesn’t approve of Fleur, I assume because of her Veela ancestry?” Fleur just nodded.

Bill sighed. “I can understand some of it,” he tried to explain. “Mum lost a lot in the last war. Her brothers - twins, like Fred and George - were killed by Death Eaters. Her branch of the Prewetts is all but gone, aside from us. She wants us all to have safe, quiet, normal lives so she doesn’t have to be afraid of losing us too.”

“I was only five when they died,” Percy recalled. “I barely remember them. So she only has Bill and Charlie who do.”

“That doesn’t justify her attitude about some things, though,” Charlie put in. “I may not have the safest job, but I enjoy it, I’m happy, and I’m for the most part outside of the Death Eaters’ target line. But I also don’t want to ‘marry a nice girl and settle down,’ to quote Mum. So…”

“I don’t think I did my siblings any favors, being who I am,” Percy noted. “Course, Pen’s relaxed me a lot.”

“He’s not kidding,” Charlie dead-panned. “Though, Bill and I have always thought a lot of that was to counteract the twins.”

“I couldn’t imagine what it was like raising those two,” Jean commented. “Don’t get me wrong, they’re great, but…”

“Yeah, they were blowing things up, even at a very young age,” Bill agreed. “Literally. But we always liked you, Perce. It’s easier to hang out with you now, of course…”

Percy flushed. “I learned a lot, watching Harry and Hermione deal with Ron and each other, their second year. That some things are worth taking a stand on, but some things are not as important as the people we love,” he admitted in a quiet voice. “Ambition is important, but loyalty to the people you see as family is most important. You two weren’t still in school to see it happen, but watching that situation was both frustrating and enlightening at the same time.”

“I think Ron might finally be growing out of some of that attitude,” Charlie observed. “Hermione wasn’t intentionally taking Harry’s attention from Ron, and Ron himself created the rest of the problems between them.”

“If Ron hadn’t started attacking me, it probably would’ve come to nothing,” Hermione spoke up. “Ron’s immaturity was grating, but I would have tolerated him for Harry’s sake, even if he and I wouldn’t ever have been friends in the same way.”

“But Harry grew up experiencing abuse and bullying by everyone around him,” Percy nodded in comprehension. 

”He wasn’t about to stand by and let anyone bully me,” Hermione continued. “Even his supposed best friend; perhaps especially his best friend.”

“It’s not exactly the sort of attitude that makes friends with people in the first place,” Blaise drawled.

“From our perspective, Ron’s initial jealous reaction seemed to take place when Harry was first dealing with Professors Snape and McGonagall telling him that they knew, from his perspective, the most embarrassing part of his story.” George said carefully. “Combined with the fact that he had zero trust in adults at that point…”

“We had to be extremely cautious, that first summer,” Jean recalled. “If Hermione wasn’t so mature, I think we’d be in a very different place. Half the time, if something was happening, we had no idea until Hermione talked Harry into coming to us.”

“We had a talk about that, during his first summer with us,” Hermione interjected. “Harry didn’t know how to trust an adult; he’d never had a trustworthy one take an active interest in him before. But I asked him if he trusted me, and he agreed that he did. So I asked him to trust me to know when it was something we needed to tell you about.”

“And thank goodness for that,” Jean agreed. “You always had a strong mind, and we did our best to teach you to think things through for yourself but to come to us when you needed help.”

“I expect I did something similar to Neville,” Augusta said with a sigh. “I hadn’t meant to, but when I see him now and recall how he was at ten or eleven… I very clearly made several mistakes with him, and I’m not sure I can ever make that right.”

“Neville forgives you,” Luna revealed airily. “He knows you were mourning his Mum and Dad and got lost among the wrackspurts for a time. You weren’t the one who did any of the really bad things, and time heals many wounds.”

“It’s different for us with Harry…” George agreed softly. “It’s not something I ever wanted to see on one of my kids’ faces…”

“Bad?” Bill asked.

“He’d flinch every time an adult came near him and raised an arm,” Jean explained. “And he  _ watched _ you every time you were in the room.”

“They’d made a lot of progress by the time I met him,” Remus added. “But he was still pretty distrustful when we met at Christmas.”

“I don’t know if he’ll ever completely trust other people,” George said.

“He does,” Luna said with a secretive smile. “He trusts Hermione and Draco, and he trusts Katie. And even if they’re the only people he ever fully trusts… he does have them. The rest of our group rates pretty highly for Harry, too, but not like them.”

“As odd as it sounds for me to hear that Draco Malfoy has earned Harry’s full and complete trust, I’m glad they have each other,” Sirius commented. “Those two have been through enough for ten lifetimes.” 

“Speaking of which, where is Katie?” Remus asked.

“She promised to spend Christmas with her family, then today I think she’s going to the Ministry to take her apparition exam,” Jean explained. “She and Harry have plans to go out tomorrow. He got tickets to Disneyland Paris.”

“What’s that?” Charlie asked, curious.

“It’s a theme park, which is an area with a bunch of rides and attractions. Most of the rides are a bit like the carts at Gringotts,” George explained. “Many muggles find things like that fun.”

“I remember going when I was little,” Hermione gave a fond smile. “It was so much fun. Maybe I can take Fred and Viktor sometime.”

“Speaking of Viktor, I’m a little surprised you aren’t outside keeping an eye on him for a while,” Blaise teased. “You’re usually a little more hands-on when people you care about get hurt.”

“I can check him over again later if I feel it’s justified,” Hermione answered primly, though her eyes glinted with amusement. “It’s just as important for him and Fred to have some fun together. If I were any good on a broom, I might have joined them just this once… but I can let them enjoy the game. They’re not going anywhere today, and the Manor grounds are as safe as the house.”

“Can I ask how the three of you… happened?” Charlie asked. “I mean, I knew Fred was bisexual for a long time, but I didn’t realize he was ready to tell other people.”

“You knew?” Bill asked, a little shocked. 

Charlie nodded. “He came to me, after I told you guys I was asexual. I helped him sort out his feelings about the whole thing, but he didn’t want anyone to know.”

Bill seemed to accept this, then Charlie turned to Hermione. “No judgement, I’m just curious.”

Hermione shrugged. “It just kind of happened organically. Viktor asked me to the Yule Ball before Fred got a chance to. So Fred asked me to save a dance for him. Before I knew it, I was falling in love with both of them, and I was afraid I’d have to choose. But first Viktor and then Fred told me it didn’t have to be that way. You should probably ask Fred about the rest, because I think a lot of it on his and Viktor’s end happened after the Third… the Third task.”

“When you weren’t at school anymore,” Percy finished for her. “It’s fine. We can talk to Fred another time.”

“Just call us nosy older siblings,” Bill joked, trying and succeeding at provoking a smile from Hermione.

“I can’t say Harry hasn’t said something similar about me, so I get it,” Hermione responded. “I think it goes along with being the elder.”

“You say that as if Harry isn’t just as involved in your life as you are in his,” Remus said, trying to hold a straight face.

“I remember a younger Harry telling me he didn’t keep secrets from you,” Jean put in. “Though I did comment at the time that he may not feel that way forever. Some things really are just that personal.”

“I don’t think I’d mind a nosy sibling - older or younger - if it came out of love the way it does for your families,” Blaise spoke up quietly.

“I understand that feeling,” Remus said, and Sirius nodded. “Sometimes being an only child can be lonely. But if you can find friends that are as good as siblings, it helps.”

“Hermione and I will happily be nosy sisters if that’s what you want,” Luna volunteered with her most innocent smile.

“I have to say,” Percy interjected. “After hearing the whole story, a lot of things that didn’t make any sense now do. Like, second year, when Draco and Theo went down to the chamber. Or the personality shift in Harry I saw your second year. Especially with how Harry approached Ron.”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked.

“First year, it was like… Harry didn’t want to do anything to upset anyone,” Percy continued. “You could sort of tell that he wasn’t being himself. Then he came back from summer hols and he was… Harry. It wasn’t anything drastic, just little subtle differences. He wasn’t scared any more.”

“He was starting to adjust by the end of the summer, it’s true,” George commented. “He was still wary of adults, but with Hermione… he was calmer. He’d begun to understand that no one would be upset with him for being himself.”

“And that he wouldn’t be punished for doing his best,” Jean added with a tinge of sadness in her tone. “That we actually expected him to do his best. And while there were and are consequences for following his conscience, those consequences would never deprive him of the things he needed to be safe and to grow.”

“If it were possible to put Muggles in Azkaban, I’d bring them up on charges,” Sirius growled. “There may not be child abuse laws in the wizarding world, but I’m sure I could find something.”

“I think Harry’d prefer if we left it,” Hermione noted. “We’ve got enough problems to take on, and the Dursleys… well, they’re Harry’s past. I think… as hard as it is, we should leave it there.” Everyone frowned. “We keep revisiting the Dursleys, but Voldemort is still out there, and we have to work on changing the Wizarding World.”

“Is there any progress on the… with Voldemort?” Bill asked.

“We found another one and are working on destroying it. Meanwhile, I’ve gone through half of the items in Bella’s vault,” Sirius started. “There are a  _ lot _ of cursed items, and items radiating dark magic. It’s taking a lot of time and effort to unravel the curses, even if we are prioritizing things that seem likely candidates.”

“Like most Purebloods, there are generations of family heirlooms, jewelry, even weapons,” Remus added with a wry twist to his lips. “Given that we’ve seen at least two pieces of jewelry already… it’s a lot to sort through.”

“Considering who that vault belonged to, I’m not surprised,” Bill snorted. “If you’d like any help, I’d be happy to put in a few hours breaking some of those curses.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Sirius said carefully. “Some of the curses are pretty nasty. Bella is… or was… cruel.”

“That’s not uncommon to find on the properties and possessions of some of the… Dark-aligned families,” Bill commented, pausing only briefly to mind his phrasing. That he’d almost said ‘death eater families’ was clear, but it was also obvious that he corrected himself out of respect for Sirius breaking away from the path others in his family had followed.

After a while, the Boxing Day visit drew to a close, but Gred held back as the Weasley clan stood in front of the fireplace. “No,” he said with finality to Bill. “I’m, uh, I’m staying here. I meant what I said. If I go home, Mum’ll… I mean, Merlin knows what she’ll do.”

“You’re always welcome here,” Jean said warmly. “Though, you know our policy about separate bedrooms.”

“We certainly have enough of them,” Harry quipped.

Bill gave Gred a tight hug. “You’re welcome at Grimmauld Place any time, but I understand after a day like today needing to spend time with the people you love. Firecall me any time you want to talk.”

Forge was a harder goodbye for both twins. “I always knew I was going to have to share you with someone else some day,” Forge said. He looked at Hermione and Viktor, who were standing hand-in-hand, shoulder-to-shoulder, just behind Gred. “Don’t hurt him, okay?”

“Never,” Hermione breathed.

“Ve vill take good care off him,” Viktor vowed, nodding.

Ron turned to Harry. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “For… well… everything. I owe Hermione an apology too but,” he glanced over at his former friend. “I don’t think today’s the day. I’ll owl her when I get home.”

Harry shrugged. “You were acting your age, I’m told. And you couldn’t have done much, anyway. The Wizarding World doesn’t have the same laws that Muggles do. But… as much as I love your family, if I’m being honest, I wouldn’t have fit in with them. You guys are… a lot to handle.” Ron’s brows drew together as he tried to piece together the intended inference. “It would have been too hard for me to go from the family I knew straight into yours. Even though there are a lot of us here, many of us don’t react well to unexpected noises.”

“And the Burrow is nothing but,” Ron agreed, finally understanding. He stood awkwardly, unsure of what to say. “I’m glad you found family and friends,” he finally said.

“I would never say no to one more,” Harry suggested with an easy grin. He put out a hand. “I’m Harry Potter.”

“Ron Weasley. Are you really?” Ron teased, reminding Harry of their very first exchange. “Do you really have that…” He gestured at his own forehead and Harry laughed, raising his bangs to show a scarless forehead. 

Ron’s eyes went wide. “What happened?” he asked. 

“It’s just a glamour. Ever since the Horcrux inside it was destroyed, I’ve been able to cover it up. Covering it makes it easier to go out into the world.” Even without the glamour, his scar was fading thanks to him applying scar-reducing cream to it every night. 

“But… it’s part of what makes you, you!” Ron exclaimed.

Harry snorted. “Sometimes being me is overrated. Sometimes I just want to be like everyone else, able to walk through Diagon Alley without everyone whispering and staring.”

“I… I don’t think I understand,” Ron said after a moment’s pause.

“Being well known and easily identified is not always a good thing,” Harry said with a shrug.

“Why?”

Harry thought for a minute, trying to give Ron an example he would understand readily. “Last year, anytime anyone pulled a prank who did Filch blame first?”

“Fred and George, generally.”

“And if they didn’t actually do it?” Harry asked.

“I don’t think he’d care, he’d still be after them. Oh…” Ron blinked, considering what he’d just said. “People either blame you or attribute things to you, whether you did them or not?” he ventured.

Harry nodded. “When it really comes down to it, yes. I mean, really, do you think a one year old actually defeated the Dark Lord? It was my mother’s sacrifice to protect me that really did it; I just happened to live through the confrontation. It wasn’t ever anything I did. If I’m going to be recognized, I would rather it be for something I did. Something I earned.”

“Like Quidditch,” Draco said with a grin. “Some day you’re going to be playing for England, or maybe France. Mark my words.”

Harry smirked and fist-bumped Draco. He and Viktor flew from time to time when Viktor came to visit and even he had been impressed by Harry’s natural skill on a broom. Flying and playing Quidditch was so opposite from war and Voldemort that sometimes Harry did fantasize that he could do so. Maybe fantasy would become a reality someday.

Charlie cleared his throat loudly. “We should really get going. Dad wanted everyone back before supper.”

After the fire died down, Mr. Lovegood said a quiet, private goodbye to Luna and left; then Mrs. Longbottom said goodbye to Neville. “You are nothing like your father,” she said bluntly as the others looked on. “But your father would tell you to take that as a compliment.” Everyone relaxed incrementally at the second part of her statement. “I have the unfortunate shame of knowing that you are going to be a great man, and I will have had nothing to do with that.”

Neville was, clearly, unsure what to say.

“Perhaps not to this point,” Jean said gently, stepping in close enough to rest a hand on Neville’s shoulder. “But if you’re both willing to work at it, that can change in the future. Our kids are smart enough to know that people never stop growing and changing, even as adults. The core of who Neville is has long since been established, but the nuances may yet change.”

“I look forward to being there to see it,” Augusta said with a small smile. She lifted her eyes to meet Jean’s. “And I thank you and your family for being there for him when his first family failed him,” she added very quietly.

Jean nodded her acceptance. “It’s just who we are, Hermione included. But for whatever it’s worth, you’re welcome.”

With the last of the visitors gone, the mask Fred had been holding since he’d heard of the attack slipped off. Viktor and Hermione shuffled him over to one of couches and a privacy spell was cast, allowing Fred the chance to cry without having to do it in front of everyone. Most of the residents of Potter Manor chose quiet pastimes in front of the fire, all of them stressed from the day’s activities, while the house elves served hot cocoa with fudge and sugar biscuits. It was a sweeter tea time than they usually observed, but everyone needed the indulgence. And the House Elves happily insisted that everyone needed more sweets over the yuletide holidays.

George kept an eye on the trio including his daughter, in the way of fathers everywhere, but knew he wouldn’t interrupt unless they crossed a particular line of intimacy. He and Jean insisted on separate rooms for a reason, after all. He didn’t really expect anything to happen in the sitting room, despite the privacy wards surrounding their couch. On some level, he would always worry. But the trio in general were very open about their relationship, demonstrating that they had nothing to be ashamed of and could be trusted to keep appropriate boundaries. It was just difficult sometimes to turn off the part of his mind that still saw Hermione as his baby girl.

Tonight, both Hermione and Viktor flanked Fred, while Hermione read to them from what appeared to be  _ The Fellowship of the Ring _ . He knew that, unfortunately, Fred would be in good company regarding having a parent or guardian reject him.

George didn’t understand how anyone could be so lost in their own beliefs and feelings as to be unwilling to listen to their children or know what would make them happy. He was glad he and Jean had been able to supply some of what they needed, along with Severus and Minerva. And he was prouder than he could say to have a daughter who cared enough about others to go to such lengths to help them find better lives for themselves.

Fred eventually wound up with his head pillowed on Hermione’s thigh and his legs thrown across Viktor’s lap. Viktor held onto both his own teacup and Hermione’s, which he handed over whenever she paused in her reading for a sip to wet her throat. Fred’s empty mug sat on the floor in front of the couch. The privacy spell eventually faded, but by that point the trio were comfortable and calmer.

The clock in the hall chimed seven when one of the House Elves popped into the room. “Would Master and family be liking dinner here, or in the dining room?” she asked Harry.

Taking a quick look around the room, ending on Jean who nodded, Harry answered, “I think the dining room, Lolly. Thank you for reminding us, and for all the effort you and the others made for the holiday.”

Lolly beamed. “You is welcome! Dinner be ready when you gets to the table.”

Fred was back to his usual cheerful demeanor over dinner. He teased and joked as much as ever, playfully jibing people until they all were laughing. If a few people shot him speculative looks, he ignored them and the group seemed generally inclined to follow his lead. At least for the time being.

* * *

After dinner they played Exploding Snap. “Are you sure you’re okay?” George asked Fred between hands. 

Fred smiled. “I really am,” he reassured the older man. “Look, I always knew that my Mum wasn’t going to accept me. It was still a bit of a shock when it happened, but I knew it was coming. My siblings all accept me. Dad’ll come around. Mum can take me or leave me.”

“But it still hurts,” George observed.

“Of course,” Fred agreed quietly. “But if there’s one thing I’ve learned being from a big family, it’s that you can’t control other people.”

“That’s true enough. But you’ll always be welcome here, and obviously with your older brothers as well.”

“I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you,” Fred said hesitantly.

“No inconvenience,” George said easily. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like.”

“I wouldn’t mind staying, just until the end of break,” Fred explained.

“It’s not a problem,” George reiterated. “There’s plenty of room, and none of you are young children. We assumed we’d be seeing more of you and Viktor over holidays. Katie, too.”

“If I’m staying here, you’re likely to have my brothers visiting a bit more too…”

George chuckled. “It’s Christmas. The more, the merrier.”

Viktor and Fred ended up retreating to the same room at bedtime. The adults silently agreed that they wouldn’t say anything about it. Both of them were of-age, and they could make their own choices. “I’m going to spend some time with them before bed,” Hermione told her parents honestly. “I won’t be spending the night, I promise, but I think we just need some time alone.”

“We trust you, luv,” Jean confirmed. “And we understand.”

Once the door was closed, Fred’s expression crumbled again and tears began to fall. Viktor and Hermione rushed to bolster him, holding him upright as he sobbed. “I don’t know why this bothers me so much,” Fred gasped. “George and I have always been disappointments to Mum.”

“Perhaps because this is not truly a choice,” Viktor suggested. “Vho you love… that is not a choice.”

“Forcing you to choose between different people you love isn’t love, Fred,” Hermione added. “I’d understand if she didn’t want to see me, or Viktor, but to cut you off too… that’s not what love is.”

“I know,” Fred managed in a choked voice. “But still…”

“She’s your mother, and some part of your heart vants her to understand,” Viktor finished for him. He gently steered them towards the bed, the three of them sitting in a row with Fred in the middle.

Fred slipped his hand in Hermione’s while leaning his head against Viktor’s shoulder. “I meant what I said,” he said quietly. “This is it for me. The three of us… Whatever it takes, I’m in it, fully and completely.”

Viktor kissed him lightly on the lips while Hermione pecked a series of kisses along Fred’s jaw. “Ve are all in this,” Viktor agreed. 

When Fred finally fell asleep between the two of them, Hermione squeezed Viktor’s shoulder before leaving the room and retreating to her own. She knew neither Viktor nor Fred would do anything more with her than a little kissing before she was of age. She’d given them her permission to go further with each other, but they’d both told her they wanted to wait until they were all ready. It set the tone of their relationship - all or nothing.

“You okay?” Harry asked. Hermione startled and looked over to see Harry sitting on the stairs in the dark. 

“It was… an emotional day,” Hermione concluded, coming over to her own brother and sitting with him. “For all of us.”

“I’m sorry that Mrs. Weasley said all that. You know I don’t care, right?”

Hermione smiled a little. It was so like her brother to worry about something like that. “Of course, Harry. I know you love me no matter what. What brought all this on?”

Harry shrugged. “I think… Ron’s coming here and seeing my life just made me wonder about what would have been,” he said. “I wonder how much of myself I would have lost just to make people happy. I wonder how many members of the AA would have had to do the same. Save one life, save the world.” 

Hermione sighed, then got up, tugging Harry along with her. “Come on, we’re going to bed?”

“I don’t know if I can sleep.” 

“Harry, you’re thinking far too deep given how late it is,” Hermione chuckled tiredly. “Come on. If we’re going to dwell, we might as well do it together.” Harry reluctantly got up and allowed Hermione to tug him with her into her room. Rather than head for the bed, though, they settled on the floor by the room’s fireplace. They grabbed pillows and a blanket off her bed and lay side by side, each staring absently into the flames.

“You know, I didn’t set out to save the world,” she commented quietly after a long silence. “It seems like that’s what we’ll end up doing, but first year I wanted you to be safe and happy as Harry Potter, my best friend and brother. It had nothing to do with anybody else.”

“I know, Mia.” They both smiled; it had been a while since Harry had used the nickname only he ever called her with any frequency. As they got older, it had seemed a little childish. But sometimes, she thought, it was okay to revert a little.

They talked a little longer, mostly about inconsequential things in attempt to distract themselves and each other. Eventually it worked, and they fell asleep on the floor in Hermione’s bedroom.

Katie arrived the next morning early, before breakfast. 

Harry had woken early and snuck out of Hermione’s room after making sure the blanket was tucked comfortably around her. Katie’s early arrival was a pleasant surprise, and he was glad only Jean had been up with him, as it gave him the chance to properly greet his girlfriend after so long apart. “Happy Christmas,” Katie giggled as he led her further inside when they finally broke apart. 

“Morning Katie,” Jean greeted quietly. “Happy Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas, Mrs. Granger,” Katie replied. 

“So what are your plans for today?” Jean asked.

Katie shrugged. “I’m not entirely sure. I’ve never been in the muggle world, so Harry tried explaining what a roller coaster is… it sounds like a lot of fun.”

“I made dinner reservations,” Harry revealed. “And I figured that we’d stay for the fireworks before we came back. There are plenty of options for lunch, when we decide we’re hungry.” Katie would be staying at Potter Manor for a couple of days, to give her and Harry time to reconnect.

“Just remember to take your coin with you, and stick together,” Jean requested.

Harry nodded. “Of course. The park doesn’t open for a couple of hours, so I thought we could hang out here for a while?”

Harry watched Katie closely for any hesitation, but she grinned. “I’ve been wanting to meet the real Draco Malfoy since you told me about all this.”

“The other early risers are in the dining room for breakfast,” Jean offered. “They came down while you two were distracted.”

Katie and Harry followed Jean into the dining room where Hermione, Remus, and Ashe were all awake. “Where’s Mr… George?” Katie asked.

“He had a patient this morning,” Harry explained. “Muggles don’t have the same tooth protections that we do, so there’s usually an increase of issues after the hols.”

“I guess if you chip a tooth playing sports, muggles can’t exactly fix it with a spell,” Katie acknowledged, nodding. “Good morning Hermione… Remus,” she turned, greeting Remus, still a little uncomfortable using first names.

“Morning, Katie,” Remus replied. “Congratulations on passing your Apparition License test.”

“Thank you,” Katie said. “It still feels a bit odd, being ‘of age’.”

“It’s that way for everyone,” Ashe offered. “You’ll get used to it.” 

Harry paused and realized that Katie had never met Ashe. “Katie, this is my godmother, Ashlyn Gladstone. Everyone calls her Ashe.”

“You were the one who always insisted that Sirius was innocent,” Katie recalled. Ashe gave Katie a confused look of her own. “My Mum works for the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office,” she explained. “Mum always told me that she didn’t agree, but she understood sticking up for the person that you love.”

Ashe nodded tensely. “Thankfully, we’re all getting past it. Amelia is actually talking to me about transferring permanently back to the home office.”

“That’d be great,” Harry said enthusiastically.

Ashe nodded. “In some ways, yes. But I’m getting a lot of pitying looks because they think I never got the chance to know you.”

Harry suddenly remembered that most of the Wizarding world thought that he was dead. Living around the same people all the time, it was easy to forget.

“It’s the same way at school,” Katie acknowledged. “Halloween in particular… no one felt like celebrating.”

Harry slipped a hand into Katie’s. “I’m still here,” he told her quietly. He knew that Katie still had nightmares that Harry had died. 

Katie took a deep breath. “I know. It’s just… been a hard year, so far. There are a lot of people who are pretending like you were friends with them, when they barely knew you. I know it’s not worth fighting with them about it, but it’s still frustrating. The way some girls lament your death, as if they were your lost love or something...”

“There will always be people who want to claim close ties to celebrity,” Hermione observed quietly. “We’ve all seen it over the years. But I’m sorry it has gotten harder for you this year.”

“Thanks, Hermione,” Katie replied with a small smile. “As long as I know the truth, I’ll be okay.”

“I’ll make certain you’re kept in the loop,” Harry promised. Hermione nodded her agreement, and Katie’s smile brightened.

“Here,” Hermione said, handing Katie a small box. “Happy belated Christmas.”

The box was very small, almost jewelry-box small. But given that it came from Hermione rather than Harry, Katie wasn’t anxious about its contents - only curious. Inside the box was a small coin, identical to the one Katie knew Harry carried with him everywhere.

“Is this..?” Katie asked, raising hopeful eyes to Hermione, who nodded. “Thank you.”

“It was about time,” Hermione said with a smile. “You’re welcome. Harry can explain it all to you, but you two can contact each other independently from the rest of us as well. Not that I think you’re likely to get separated at Disneyland or anything.”

“Thank you,” Katie repeated, beaming. “It’s perfect.” 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to everyone who reads, shares and comments! We love hearing from readers.

* * *

**Chapter 10**

All was quiet for the rest of the Christmas Hols. Katie stayed for several days, and even after going home she came by almost every day to spend time with Harry. Viktor spent as much of his free time at the manor as he could spare. Several of the Weasleys came by to support Fred, but Fred did not return to the Burrow. The continued lack of response from Molly and Arthur was unnerving, but not entirely unexpected.

After classes resumed, the adults returned to spending the bulk of their time sifting through the contents of the Lestrange vaults. Ashe and Bill both helped as they were able. Fleur and Remus gave the teens a few lessons on curse detection and some of the simpler counter-spells to help the group better understand just how much of a challenge a vault full of cursed items posed. It was interesting, and none of the argued about the necessity of the additional lessons.

Harry should have known it was the calm before the storm. One morning in late February, Sirius announced to the family, “I think we found a Horcrux. It’s a goblet that belonged to the Hufflepuff family. There’s no other reason why Bella’d have it, unless it was given to her by Old Voldy Shorts.”

“Hufflepuff’s cup?” Hermione asked curiously. Harry recognized the ‘research’ tone of voice she always gained when she wanted to go to the library for more information.

“We’ll probably be gone all day taking care of it,” Remus continued, nodding along. “This is going to take all four of us, so we need you all to take care of each other. Cedric is going to be in charge, simply because he’s of-age and we’ll be back before dinner.”

Harry frowned, grumbling a bit. He’d been feeling trapped lately. He didn’t like not doing anything, especially when he knew everyone was in danger. He knew his parents were keeping him within the walls of the manor because they were scared of losing him again, but he couldn’t let people die while he was sitting around, doing nothing.

“You all have coursework to do anyway,” Jean said, a touch of warning in her voice as she looked pointedly at Harry.

“Yes Mum,” Harry groaned.

It was almost lunchtime when Harry had cause to forget all his promises to his parents. The coins burned hot. Harry pulled his out and paled at the message.  _ Death Eaters at Hogwarts _ . It was from Fred. 

Hermione’s eyes went wide, then narrowed as she frowned at the coin. Her eyes met Harry’s a moment later, and both had identical looks of steely determination. “We have to do something,” Hermione said quietly.

“Do we?” Theo asked, trying to be the cool head of the group.

“Yes,” chorused Harry, Hermione, Neville and Cedric.

Harry suddenly took a breath, and Hermione saw him shift into looking almost General-like. “Look, anyone who doesn’t want to go, we understand. Most of us are underage and facing Death Eaters, who are the parents of some of us… you don’t have to go. But I can’t stand by while our friends are in trouble. Especially if it’s because Voldemort has put together what we’ve been doing for the past year.”

“I’m with you,” Draco said, looking rather nervous. 

“I need to stay behind,” Blaise said quietly. “I’m sorry. It’s not that I don’t want to…”

Hermione calmly put a hand on his shoulder. “We understand. You don’t have to justify yourself.”

“It’s not a bad idea to have someone here as an emergency contact,” Luna pointed out logically; she clearly had her Ravenclaw thinking cap on at the moment and her eyes were sharp. “Hermione fixed our coins; if someone goes down, perhaps Blaise could use the coins to get someone to apparate them back here.”

“The house elves would help,” Theo chimed in. “If you could tell them where, or direct them…”

The suggestion helped Blaise relax. “I can do that, I think,” he agreed.

“If the house elves can apparate into Hogwarts, can they get us there too?” Hermione asked suddenly. “It would save us the trip up from Hogsmeade, even if the tunnels are shorter than the road.”

“Pipsy,” Harry called. Pipsy appeared with a crack. “Can you get us all into Hogwarts?”

Pipsy nodded vigorously. “Yes, Master Harry. Yous simply needs to grab my hand.”

“Blaise is staying here,” Hermione said. “We’d like the other elves to coordinate with him, to come get anyone who might get into trouble and need help.”

Pipsy nodded. “We elveses will be ready.”

“Everyone get ready,” Harry ordered. He himself conjured a small knife with a sheath that attached to his leg, his wand holder he summoned from his room, and he transfigured his every day robes into dueling robes like Ashe had taught them. Dueling robes were shorter and designed not to get caught up during a fight. The others took a moment to make similar preparations of their own.

“Ready,” Hermione said, her voice shaking a little. 

Harry looked around and everyone else nodded, faces serious. 

“Everyone grab hands,” Harry said. Hermione grabbed his right hand and with his left he grabbed Pipsy. With a crack, they appeared inside the walls of Hogwarts, near the Hospital wing. They heard fighting below them. “Let’s go,” Harry said. “We need to find the Diadem first before facing Voldemort. This needs to end today.”

“Where could the diadem be where it wouldn’t be moved?” Draco asked.

“There is a room in Hogwarts that only appears when you need it, much like the AA room,” Luna stated. “It is known as the Come and Go Room or the Room of Requirement. I believe I remember where it is.” 

The group followed Luna at a run to a room across from a painting of trolls. They tumbled through the door, only to see the twins looking down at a slightly singed and twisted hunk of metal on the floor. “We got it,” Fred said with a proud grin. “Luckily we’ve been practicing fiendfyre, just in case.” Hermione had to muffle a laugh, but she grinned briefly at the twins as they joined the larger group. Fred blew her a kiss in return, but they didn’t have time to stop for a proper greeting.

“Hopefully the cup’s been defeated as well,” Harry said. “That’s what our parents were off taking care of. Now all we need to do is kill the snake and Voldemort can be killed. For good.”

Harry led the group down to the main battle. With his scar nearly gone, thanks to both muggle and magical healing, Harry heard whispers of both ‘James’ and ‘Harry’ from people they passed. The few Death Eaters who tried to engage him, he defeated easily, his rage driving him past them all. The others were similarly motivated, and made short work of any attackers. 

Then he saw Sirius and Remus, who in turn saw him. 

“Kid, what are you doing here?” yelled Sirius as he dueled Lucius Malfoy. Draco paled slightly. “You were supposed to stay home!” 

“I’m not letting my friends run into battle while I stay safe,” Harry shouted back as he disarmed and tied up another Death Eater. “My safety means nothing if I lose everything.”

Sirius blocked a curse from Lucius, who finally noticed the others behind Harry. “Draco Lucius Malfoy, get away from them,” Lucius called dangerously.

Draco clenched his fists, wand held tightly in one. “No!” he shouted back. 

Lucius was so stunned that he froze, giving Sirius the chance to land a curse. Lucius took a step back, shaking off the curse, as he stared at his child with an expression which reminded Harry of Uncle Vernon. “‘No?’ You dare say no to me? I am your father!”

Draco pointed his wand at his father. “You’re nothing to me!” He shot a spell of his own. Draco continued dueling his father as Sirius watched with pride, disarming the odd Death Eater who attempted to attack Draco and generally protecting Draco from outside interference.

“Harry! Look out!” Hermione shrieked suddenly. Harry whirled around from watching Draco just in time to see Dumbledore aiming a spell at him, a cold and calculating expression darkening the usually friendly old wizard’s face. Before Harry could even think to counter it, Hermione’s arm was raised. “ _ Expelliarmus _ !” she screamed. Dumbledore’s wand flew straight into Hermione’s hand.

Dumbledore looked entirely flummoxed for a brief moment as his gaze darted between Harry and Hermione. But he didn’t have long to be surprised. 

“AVADA KEDAVRA!” the high, cold, cruel voice could only belong to one person. Harry’s heart clenched and Hermione cried out a denial as Dumbledore crumbled to the ground. But neither had long to consider their former Headmaster.

“Harry Potter,” Voldemort sneered. “Back from the dead, I see.”

“Don’t feel so special now, huh?” Harry quipped, preferring humor over fear. Voldemort started to raise his wand at Harry.

“DON’T YOU DARE GO NEAR HIM!” came George’s voice. Harry’s heart sank into his stomach as George rushed over and stood in front of him, blocking Voldemort from any access to Harry.

“Dad… no… you have to get out of here,” Harry begged, trying to shove his father out of the way, but George was adamantly immovable. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dean wielding his ancestor’s sword against an enormous snake. “It’s too dangerous…” 

Meanwhile, Hermione was dueling Death Eaters, incapacitating and tying them up. It felt so much easier with Dumbledore’s wand in her hand, as if it had chosen her in the same way her original wand had. But it had so much power, her spells broke through the enemy shields readily. Some part of her mind wished she had time to wonder about it, even as her primary focus remained on the battle - and her father confronting the dark wizard.

Voldemort laughed coldly at George Granger, his expression full of disdain. “A muggle? You expect to defeat me, mudblood?” 

“I don’t care,” George said defiantly. He stood firm, arms outstretched as he shielded Harry. “I’m not letting you hurt my son while I’m still alive.”

“I can take care of that,” Voldemort said. “AVADA KEDAVRA!” 

“NO!” Harry screamed in unison with Hermione as he vainly attempted to get in front of his Dad. The green light hit George and he fell, the weight taking Harry with him. Hermione skidded to a stop beside Harry and their father, blinking away tears as she glared furiously at Voldemort. Hermione kept her feet, knowing Harry was distracted. As much as she wanted to cling to her father’s body, she knew she couldn’t let his sacrifice be in vain. She held up both wands, desperately shielding with all her strength. 

“No, please,” Harry cried as he shook his father’s shoulders. “Wake up. Please?” George didn’t move. Unlike so many who’d been killed by the killing curse. He looked peaceful. Satisfied, almost. Harry sobbed, not caring that Voldemort was taking aim once again. 

“You have killed your last person, Tom,” Snape interrupted, approaching as the Death Eater numbers thinned and the duels slowed from their frantic pace.. 

“I should have known that you were not truly loyal,” Voldemort replied, watching warily as Snape circled. “You side with Potter? After what his father did to you?”

“Harry is not his father, and he is just as much his mother’s son. I side with him, with them. But I have one last bit of interesting news for you: we’ve destroyed all your horcruxes.” As he gestured towards the beheaded corpse of the snake, Snape moved to Hermione’s side, standing between Harry and Voldemort. Hermione could see Dean holding Gryffindor’s sword, covered in blood and looking a little shocked.

Hermione saw Voldemort’s smirk drop and desperate fury grow on his cold face. Had Harry been looking up, he would have seen traces of real fear in Voldemort’s eyes. But Harry was beginning to grow numb. His father was dead because of him, again. 

“SECTUMSEMPRA!” Snape shouted, taking advantage of Voldemort’s distraction. Cuts began to appear all over Voldemort’s body. Within seconds, he collapsed, bleeding both inside and out. Snape flung his arm out, keeping Hermione from more than a glimpse of the gruesome sight. She took the opportunity to catch her breath, her mind reeling. So much had happened in such a short time. 

With Voldemort’s death, those Death Eaters that didn’t run were quickly defeated. At her place beside Snape, Hermione wilted, eyes brimming with tears. Snape made sure she settled securely beside Harry before turning his attention to keeping the distracted and grieving children safe for the moment.

Harry couldn’t move. Couldn’t do anything. He slowly registered that there was blood all over the floor, but didn’t know why. He just wanted his Dad to open his eyes. He couldn’t be gone. There was movement. Someone crying. Someone strong tried to pull him off of his Dad’s body. “No,” Harry protested. “No, stop. I can’t.” That was the last thing he knew. 

When he woke up again, he was in the hospital wing. Hermione and Jean sat together on one side of the bed, looking devastated. Harry didn’t know what to do or say, so he remained unresponsive. Jean squeezed his hand when she saw his eyes open, but he didn’t know how to squeeze it back. Did they blame him? Did they want to undo the adoption? He’d gotten George Granger killed. 

Jean shifted onto the bed, hauling his upper body into a sitting position and holding him firmly. “I know it hurts, I know… it hurts so much that you’re almost numb to it. This wasn’t your fault Harry. George and I both knew there was a chance of this when we first adopted you. Neither of us cared, because we love you, and love is worth that chance. None of that has changed. I know it hurts, baby, I know.” 

Finally Harry broke, sobbing loudly as Hermione joined Jean and the three of them cried and hugged until all their tears had run out. Then they sat together, Harry leaning his head on one of Jean’s shoulders while Hermione leaned on her other. 

“My babies,” Jean whispered. “We’ll get through this. Together. I’m here.” She rocked both her children gently, holding them tighter when Harry sniffled and Hermione’s breath caught in her throat. “You’re not alone.”

Harry found Hermione’s hand, and the siblings clung to each other as well as their mother. Though their tears were running dry, the occasional gasped breath or choked off sob still sounded in the quiet room.

“Are we interrupting, Mummy Jean?” Luna’s voice came from the other side of the privacy curtain surrounding Harry’s bed.

“No, sweetheart,” Jean called quietly when neither Harry nor Hermione responded in any way.

Luna peeked around the curtain, eyes glassy with tears of her own; Hermione never lifted her head from her mum’s shoulder, but she held her free hand out to Luna.

The next thing anyone knew, three more kids piled onto the bed. Luna slipped in close to Hermione and Jean, Draco sat as close to Harry as he could, and Theo settled at the foot of the bed. Neville stood beside them, eyeing the bed as if it would collapse under everyone’s weight. A wave of his wand cast a strengthening charm on the frame, but Neville still chose to pull a chair closer instead of adding to the pile on the bed.

“I know how much this hurts,” Theo murmured. “But we’re here for you.”

“I know,” Hermione managed to find her voice, though it was raspy from her tears. “I just…”

“Cousin Sirius is helping with cleanup,” Draco offered quietly. “He put a preservation spell on… on George. Moved him so he won’t be disturbed until… until we can…”

“Until it’s time for the funeral,” Theo finished as Draco struggled. His tone was bleak, but he was the calmest of the five teens.

“The Ministry wants to talk to you, Harry,” Neville said softly. “I think McGonagall is holding them off for now. Since Dumbledore is… gone, there’s a lot of holes in the official story regarding where you’ve been, and not just for the past seven months.”

Harry looked at his Mum, and realized she didn’t blame him for George’s death. The tension in him bled out as she read his mind. “Would you like me to come with you?” she asked. Harry nodded. “Okay, we’ll set something up before dinner.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry croaked. Even though he knew it was unnecessary, some part of him blamed himself.

Jean hugged him tighter. “I’ll probably be saying this for a while, luv, but this was  _ not _ your fault.” She shook her head when he opened his mouth, probably to object. “No ‘buts.’ It’s not your fault. Your father made a choice, and that choice was to do everything he could to protect you. That’s what parents do, you know.”

An exhausted looking Remus came in on the tail end of Jean’s comment; it only took one look at the cluster on the bed for him to understand what was happening. “She’s right, pup,” Remus said in a low voice. “George did what Sirius or I would’ve done in his place. Because we love you, and you’re worth it.” 

Harry wasn’t quite sure how to react to that. All he knew was that he hurt. He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He wanted to kick the football at the house. Most of all, he wanted to go home. “I want to go home. Not the manor, but…”

“Me too,” Hermione murmured.

“Tonight, we will,” Jean said softly.

“Can we still come too?” Luna asked in a small voice.

“Of course,” Jean responded, though she wasn’t sure where she was going to put everyone. The manor was much bigger than their home. But she’d manage, somehow. She wasn’t sure she expected anyone to actually end up in their own beds anyhow.

“Can I borrow Jean for a bit, guys?” Remus asked quietly. “There are a few things we need to handle.”

Hermione burrowed deeper into her mum’s embrace for a moment. Then she sighed. “I… suppose…”

“If you need me to stay, everyone else can wait,” Jean soothed. “Unless the castle is about to fall down around us, I don’t have to go anywhere until you’re ready.”

Harry desperately wanted his Mum to stay, but knew he should probably act the way he was expected to. “It’s okay,” Harry said. “You’ll… you’ll c-come back…”

“Absolutely,” Jean replied firmly. “I expect you all to stick together while I’m gone, though. And if I see Katie or Fred, I’ll send them up to see you, if you’d like?”

“Yes, please,” Hermione answered. If she couldn't have her Mum, Fred was a good alternative. She didn’t think they’d be laughing again anytime soon, but he did give wonderful hugs too. And as much as she hated to admit it, she expected Katie would help Harry more than she herself could at the moment. They were growing up, and while Harry would always be her little brother… they were reaching the point where sometimes Harry turned elsewhere for support. And she would too. She supposed that was a good thing, but at the moment it was a little hard to consider.

But to her surprise, Harry grabbed her as Jean stood up and held on tightly. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know,” Hermione replied, sniffling as she returned the embrace. “But you don’t have to be. It could’ve just as easily been me, and he’d have stood over me just the same.” Closing her eyes sent a few tears trickling down her cheeks again, but she ignored them. “It’s not your fault, and it’s not mine either.”

“But it feels like it should be,” Harry admitted in a near whisper. Hermione’s arms tightened around him, but she didn’t know what to say to that. She’d likely be feeling the same way if it  _ had _ been her in Harry’s place.

“You can’t blame yourself,” she finally managed to say. “It was Dad’s choice to make. And you know as well as I do that he’d choose our lives over his any day, let alone in the middle of a battle.” There were more tears in her voice as she spoke, and Hermione wasn’t sure where they were still coming from. She’d thought she was all cried out.

“But  _ why _ ?” Harry all but wailed. “Why did it have to be him?”

“Why did we come here to begin with?” Draco interjected. “Because we cared about the people here, and didn’t want bad things to happen to any of them. Your dad feels… felt the same way about you two.”

“If we hadn’t come…” Harry began, but he was cut off.

“Then Voldemort would likely still be out there, and the war would continue on,” Neville insisted. “And it’s possible they might still have been here; they were with Remus and Sirius, after all.”

“He w-w-was such a gr-great d-dad,” Harry stammered, tears spilling over. He found he couldn’t talk about it any further, his throat closing up.

“Yeah,” Hermione agreed quietly.

Katie rushed into the room, causing everyone to start crying again. Someone, Hermione couldn’t remember who, started telling stories about George, and Harry and Katie wound up together on Harry’s bed. Hermione stayed close, though, with Harry still clinging to one of her hands.

Fred came up not much later. “Hermione,” he said softly. Harry reluctantly let her go and Hermione rushed over to Fred, who held her tightly, sitting her on the next bed over. Hermione shook in Fred’s arms, sobbing anew as the tears returned. He held her and murmured soothing nonsense. Eventually she calmed once more, and he passed her a handkerchief. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Hey, you’re allowed to grieve,” Fred assured her in a low voice. “I left a message for Viktor; he’ll find us as soon as his game is over, I’m sure.”

“Thanks.” Hermione glanced across at Harry, surprised to see Katie curled up behind him with an arm draped loosely over his side. “Is he..?” she started.

“Cried himself to sleep, I think,” Katie whispered. “I’ve got him for now.”

“He’s blaming himself,” Hermione whispered.

“Of course,” Katie murmured with a sigh. “He’s Harry. Thanks for the head’s up though.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the battle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Just wow. We got a lot of responses on the last chapter. The sheer number of people who had emotional reactions was amazing and touching. Because if we can make you feel it, then we've done something right.
> 
> This is also a really hard chapter for Winter, because two years ago today her father passed away. So don't mind us if we're quietly crying over here while we post.

Loss is hard. For everyone.

* * *

**Chapter 11**

By the time Harry and Hermione had rested and were allowed to leave the hospital wing, fortified with calming draughts, the Ministry workers were chomping at the bit to talk to Harry. Madam Pomfrey had refused to allow them entry into the hospital wing, and apparently none of them were foolish enough to take on the Mediwitch in her own domain. Especially with McGonagall backing her up.

Harry, Hermione, and Jean were led into a small classroom where Cornelius Fudge and Amelia Bones were already waiting.

Harry was instantly suspicious of the minister and Amelia raised a hand as Jean opened her mouth. “The Minister has agreed to not make any comments as long as he can sit in this meeting. We need you to start from the beginning,” Amelia said patiently. “What happened, in your own words?”

Harry, who was sitting between his Mum and sister, laughed dryly as he raked his fingers through his hair, messing it up further. “That… that’s been the question of the year. When my parents were first murdered… I was abandoned by Dumbledore on my muggle aunt’s and uncle’s doorstep in the middle of the night. They never wanted me and hated anything to do with magic, so they weren’t exactly happy to see me the next morning. Over the next ten years, they abused and neglected me. The G-Grangers… they saved me.”

Amelia blinked. Fudge opened his mouth and Sirius shot a silencing spell at him. “So, you’ve been living with the Grangers?” Amelia asked gently, ignoring Fudge entirely.

“Hermione and I blood bonded,” Harry said. “Even if we hadn’t, it wouldn’t matter to me. This is my family. Every holiday I had away from Hogwarts, I was with them.”

“So, then, after the third task,” Amelia continued.

Harry sighed, not meeting anyone’s eyes. Both Hermione and Jean reached out and grabbed his hands to remind him that they were with him. “Everything that Cedric Diggory reported about how Voldemort came back is true,” He explained quietly. “I stepped in front of a killing curse to save Cedric… but it turns out that the night my parents were killed, Voldemort made me into a Horcrux, so he destroyed his own Horcrux rather than killing me.” 

Amelia’s eyes widened when Harry mentioned Horcruxes, but she managed to keep her expression neutral. “I see. And then?”

“We thought it would be safer to let everyone think I was dead,” Harry responded with a shrug. “If Voldemort believed I was dead, he wouldn’t keep trying to target me directly. And since we had no way of knowing where he might have eyes and ears, we kept it pretty quiet. We arranged for home schooling so we wouldn’t fall behind on our course work.”

“Muggle home schooling?”

Harry shook his head. “No, Wizarding curriculum. We worked with Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape, as well as a few others.”

“Can I ask why you chose another Muggle family?” Amelia asked slowly. Her tone wasn’t accusatory, just curious. “Nothing against the Grangers, of course, but surely you knew there would be many Wizarding families happy to take you in?”

“Actually, I didn’t at the time,” Harry denied. He took a deep breath, and glanced at Jean, who gave him an encouraging look. “My aunt and uncle told me no one wanted me, and how they were stuck with me because I had no one else. There might have been others who would’ve taken me in… but by the time I came to Hogwarts, I would never have asked, and they never offered. The Grangers… they offered. Well, more like insisted,” he added with a hint of an ironic smile.

“How did they do that?” Amelia was genuinely curious, and she glanced from Harry to Hermione and back.

“There are laws against child abuse in the Muggle world,” Hermione explained. “When I told my parents that I suspected that Harry was being abused, they looked into the situation. By the time we came home from First Year, they had arranged for Harry to legally - from the Muggle perspective - live with us instead.” She lifted her chin in an almost regal posture. “Once Harry and I blood bonded, of course, my status as closest living relative meant my parents became Harry’s as well. So of course, he continued to live with us.”

Amelia gave a small smile. “I don’t need to ask if you were happy with that situation; it seems clear to me that you were and are.”

“I…” Harry’s voice caught. “My father just died,” he said softly. He fought to keep the tears at bay as he remembered his father standing between him and Voldemort. “‘Happy’ isn’t the emotion that I’d describe myself as being right now.”

“I understand, but that isn’t what I meant,” Amelia clarified in a gentle tone. “You’ve been happy as part of the Granger family. You claim them as yours, and you’re ready to defend them as your own. Even current losses don’t necessarily change that feeling of belonging, and you seem as close to your mother and sister as I would expect from a boy your age. You might not be feeling happy, but you wouldn’t change your family now would you?”

“No, you’re right, I wouldn’t,” Harry agreed in a subdued tone.

“You do all have my condolences for your loss, by the way,” Amelia added. “I didn’t know Mr. Granger, but if he was part of giving you a safe and happy home then he has my respect as a parent.”

“Thank you,” Jean responded for all of them. “He… he w-was a wonderful man.”

Fudge looked upset, still unable to speak while the others lapsed into silence. “No offense, but it’s been a long day, and, well, we’d like to go home,” Harry said quietly.

“I see no reason why you couldn’t,” Amelia said. “We can always owl or Floo you if we have more questions.”

At her comment, Fudge really looked like he was attempting to protest, but the Grangers determinedly ignored him. Instead, they gathered up what little they had with them and left the room. Sirius followed - without cancelling the spell on Fudge.

“Let’s get home,” Sirius said gruffly. “Before the circling vultures decide to dive. Remus took most of the others back while we were busy.”

“Take the kids and come back for me,” Jean replied. “I don’t want anybody hurt because of… what is it?”

“Splinching,” Hermione reminded her.

“Right, splinching. No splinching; we’re all tired and we don’t need to overtax anyone.”

When they got back to the Granger home, after walking to the edge of the Hogwarts grounds so they could apparate, Harry immediately curled up on the couch, facing the couch’s back, uninterested in being around anyone at the moment but not wanting to be alone. The tears that had threatened to spill did so silently, soaking the couch cushions. Hermione gave him an assessing look; she decided to leave him be for the moment. Instead, she grabbed herself a book and sat at the other end of the couch. She tucked her feet up on the couch after a moment, not quite touching Harry but near enough to feel the warmth of another person. 

In a voice rough from too many tears, not to mention screaming, Hermione began to read out loud.  _ Prince Caspian _ was a story they both enjoyed, and hopefully disassociated enough from their lives that it would soothe them both.

Jean came back and sat on the ground between her children, tears slipping down her face. “I’ll go get dinner,” Remus said quietly. He returned five minutes later with a bag of food and a strained look on his face. “News has already reached the  _ Cauldron _ ,” he murmured to Sirius. 

Jean saw the food and Hermione closed the book. “Harry, come on, it’s dinner,” Jean prodded. 

“‘Mnot’ungry,” Harry said quietly. 

“Then at least come and sit up, please. For me?” Jean pleaded. Harry often defaulted to not eating when he was upset, but Jean was hoping that sitting at the table and the smell of food would pull him out of it and make him realize he was hungry.

“Fine,” Harry grumbled, sitting up. His eyes were red and puffy, but no one commented.

It sort of worked. But Jean was just glad to see Harry eating something, even if it wasn’t much.

Ashe came over after dinner with enough food to feed them for a week. “Don’t worry about the other kids, we’re taking care of it. You guys take care of you guys and let us know if we can do anything,” Ashe said.

“When can, uh, I need to bury my husband,” Jean said softly. Harry went pale and Hermione made a small, distressed noise.

“He should be released by tomorrow morning,” Ashe explained. “I have a list of morticians who deal with magical deaths of muggle and squib bodies. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

Jean gave a small smile and accepted the list, as well as the hug Ashe offered. Ashe stayed a little longer, comforting Sirius, before returning to the Manor to help with the rest of the family.

After dinner, they put on  _ Monty Python and the Holy Grail _ . While no one laughed, it was nice to just not think for a couple of hours. They finally called it an early night, with a dose of dreamless sleep for Hermione and Harry each. Sirius and Remus transfigured the furniture into beds, which they all pushed together. Sirius and Remus slept on the outside, while Jean slept between her two kids. 

For the first time since coming to the Grangers, Harry didn’t get up and make breakfast the next morning. Instead, he stayed in bed, next to his Mum; part of him wished shutting out the rest of the world was as simple as keeping his eyes closed. He knew he couldn’t actually do so, because that would just hurt other people, but that didn’t stop him wanting to.

“Morning, Harry,” Jean whispered when she realized he was awake. He didn’t respond, just hid his face against her shoulder. Jean rubbed his back gently. “It’s all right. I won’t make you get up. We can all have a lie-in; I think we deserve one.” She paused, but Harry still didn’t speak. 

“It’ll get easier, luv,” she offered softly. “Not today or tomorrow, probably not even next week. For a while, lots of little things will make you think of him and you’ll cry because you miss him. But as time passes, you’ll find that those same things make you smile. Because in your mind, you’ll remember how he would have smiled with you, how pleased or proud he would be. And it won’t be so bad.”

“I don’t think anything has ever hurt like this,” Harry whispered.

“You were too young, the first time, to go through this. Now you understand what happened.” Jean sighed softly. “We all need to be gentle with ourselves and each other for a while. Grieving is a process.”

“Are you okay?” Harry asked quietly. 

Tears appeared in Jean’s eyes. “It helps that you two need me right now. I’ll be okay.”

Harry looked down, going red. Jean seemed to read his mind. “Oh, no… Harry… we’re forever. No matter what. I’ll never leave you.” Hermione shifted in her sleep, so they stopped talking. Jean just held Harry tightly.

Remus was the next to get up, and he went about starting breakfast for everyone. Harry’s stomach turned at the idea of eating. He wanted to lie there forever, curled against his Mum and not thinking about the reality of what happened yesterday.

When Hermione finally woke, a short time later, she blinked sleepily at her surroundings for a moment. Then the prior day’s events came crashing back in and she bit her lower lip, casting her eyes over her mother and brother. Noting how Harry was curled up against their Mum’s side, she decided to leave them alone for a bit.

With a tiny, tremulous smile, Hermione gave them each a kiss on the cheek and then crawled out of bed. She shuffled her way to the stairs and up to the bathroom. A few minutes later, the distant rush of water indicated the shower running.

Hermione was functioning, at least to some degree. But she hadn’t spoken a word since she’d stopped reading the night before.

It was an extremely quiet group that sat down to breakfast. Hermione was clean and dressed, as was Sirius. Jean and Harry still wore their pyjamas, and Harry stuck close to Jean’s side. Though not as clingy, Hermione readily accepted any hug offered; no one commented on her red eyes, as none of them were really in any better shape. There were lots of hugs before they all sat down.

The adults all ate, though a little slower than was normal. Hermione went through twice as much tea as usual, but ate somewhat less. Harry spent most of his time at breakfast picking at his food, only eating a few mouthfuls when prompted by Jean or Sirius.

“All right, everyone,” Remus finally said into the silence. “The next few weeks are going to be rough on us all, but for Jean, Hermione and Harry the most. I’m guessing there are likely to be fits of grief and anger, nightmares, tears, the whole range of feeling. So I want you to know two things. All doors are open to us all right now; I don’t care if it’s half two in the morning, if you need someone you can wake someone up. Myself, Sirius, Jean… whomever you need. There is no ‘right’ way to grieve, and it will probably be different for all of you. But you’re not doing this alone.”

Jean saw hints of memory in Remus’ eyes, and knew he’d been alone to cope with the loss of Harry’s first set of parents. She nodded, accepting his determination that none of them be left to themselves the way he had been. “I put a sign up on the dental office yesterday and called everyone with scheduled surgeries today,” Sirius said quietly. He and Remus were familiar enough with the offices that it wasn’t unexpected that Sirius had done so, but the weight of  _ why _ it had been done hung on the group. 

“Thank you, Sirius,” Jean replied softly. “I should… I should probably call the family today. I don’t… I don’t even know what to say.”

“Tell them the truth,” Remus advised. “George gave his life protecting Harry from a bigoted maniac. He was doing what any good father would do for his children, keeping them safe.”

Harry frowned and started to get up, most of his food still uneaten. “‘Scuse me,” he muttered, before striding out the back door. 

Jean sighed and started to get up. “Let him have some privacy,” Remus advised. “He knows he can come to any of us when he needs it.” 

Jean nodded her acceptance and turned to her daughter. “How are you doing, luv?” she inquired, offering a hug to her daughter.

Hermione readily accepted it. “I want my Daddy,” Hermione admitted honestly. “It’s… oddly lonely without him here. I mean, I know I’m not alone, but…”

“You feel his absence,” Jean finished for her, smoothing a hand over Hermione’s still-damp curls. “I do too.”

“I don’t think it’s going away anytime soon,” Hermione sighed. “But… I’ll get through it. Daddy would want me to. I just wish I could help Harry somehow. I know he’s hurting and he’s blaming himself. But it wasn’t his  _ fault _ .”

“It’s going to take some time for him to get past that, Kitten,” Sirius advised in a low voice, speaking from experience. “Eventually he will come to accept that the only one to blame is old Voldy himself, but it won’t happen right away.”

Hermione sighed. 

“Just be there to listen when he wants to talk. And be understanding when he wants to be alone for a while,” Remus added. “It’s all any of us can really do for right now.”

“But we should make room for him,” Jean emphasized. “I think… I think he thinks we won’t want him to be a part of our family any more because George died.”

“If he’s blaming himself, he probably doesn’t understand why you aren’t blaming him,” Sirius offered. “But I think Jean’s right. Make sure to include him as normally as possible.”

“We should figure out some things to do to keep our minds off things anyway,” Remus said softly. “Take it from me, there’s nothing worse than just sitting alone with your thoughts.”

“I’m not sure I’d be able to concentrate on much right now,” Hermione admitted. “Even reading last night was hard. There’s… there’s not much I could do that wouldn’t have a lot of memories associated with it.”

“Try something new?” Remus suggested. Hermione bit her lip, considering.

“Get Harry to help you improve your flying?” Sirius gave her a small smirk when she rolled her eyes. “Honestly, he finds flying relaxing, he has always enjoyed helping you learn things, and a witch being afraid to fly on a broom is a disgrace to stereotypes everywhere.” 

The corners of Hermione’s lips quirked. “I’ll think about it,” was all she said.

“We should rent some movies to watch at night,” Jean said. “And I think, unless you think it’ll help you, you should take a week off of studying for your OWLs and A-levels.”

“No one is going to be getting much done on that front any way,” Sirius said softly. “Word is getting around about Voldy being gone for good, especially since there’s a body and everything this time. I suspect by tonight, the celebrations will be starting.”

“Once again proving to us all how few people care about what others might be going through as long as  _ they’re _ safe,” Hermione grumbled. “If they start calling Harry ‘the boy who lived twice’ I’m going to hex someone.”

“I think Snape is being lauded as the wizard who took down Voldemort,” Remus said dryly. “Not that he’s enjoying it any more than Harry would be.” No one laughed, but Jean smiled and Hermione snorted at the thought of Severus Snape being the new wizarding hero.

“He’s lucky Minerva tightened the wards around Hogwarts after the attack; you know how persistent reporters can be,” Sirius quipped. 

Hermione felt her coin heat up and she looked down at it.  _ Heard the news. I know you’re not at the Manor. Can I come by? ~ VK _

“Viktor wants to come by,” Hermione said softly. “Can he?”

“Of course,” Jean agreed. “Viktor, Fred, and Katie are always welcome here.”

_I’m at home_. Hermione replied. _Floo address is Granger Station_. Hermione looked at Remus, then Sirius. “Should I see if Katie can come visit Harry?”

“She’s probably still at Hogwarts,” Sirius said slowly. “They could ask, but my guess is that Minerva will want her to wait for the weekend.”

Before Hermione could reply, the quartet in the kitchen heard the Floo flare to life. “Hermione?” came Viktor’s voice. Rather than respond, she dashed into the family room. Viktor caught her as she flung herself into his arms.

“Am here,” he murmured to her. “So sorry to hear about…”

“Dad. Thanks,” Hermione whispered. 

Viktor looked up as the adults followed Hermione into the room. “My sincere condolences for your loss,” he said with a bow of his head. 

“Thank you, Viktor,” Jean said quietly. “Welcome to our home.”

Viktor bowed his head again. “Should expect owl vith large package,” he added sheepishly. “Mother vas planning ‘funeral care package’ vhen I left Bulgaria.”

“That’s very thoughtful of her,” Jean answered with a small smile. “When we plan the ceremony, your parents are welcome to attend with you if they’d like.”

“Likely they vill accept. Be there to support you, even though ve did not know him well.”

“We appreciate it,” Hermione spoke up without moving from Viktor’s arms. 

Viktor looked around nervously. “Vhere… vhere is Harry?” he asked nervously. “I did not hear he was hurt…”

“He’s fine, physically,” Hermione said softly. “Dad… Dad died protecting him. He isn’t taking it well. I mean, none of us are, but Harry…”

Viktor sighed. “He has lost much for so young,” Viktor observed sagely. “It does not seem fair for him to lose much vhen the rest of us have lost little.”

“Sadly, ‘fair’ seems to have little to do with it,” Sirius sighed. “I can’t honestly say I’d have done anything different in George’s place, but Harry has a hard time accepting that some people value his life above their own.”

A frown crossed Viktor’s face, but he held his peace. These were hardly the circumstances under which to confront Harry’s self-worth issues. Instead, he offered, “Perhaps I could take you out for a vhile, Hermione? Go for a valk, get some air?”

Hermione hesitated; part of her wanted nothing more than to escape the air of grief that filled the house, even though she knew she was part of the source, but another part wasn’t sure she should leave her Mum and Harry.

“I think that sounds like a good idea,” Jean suggested, surprising Hermione. “Life goes on, love. It’s okay if you want to go for a while. Just be home in time for dinner. And take some money in case you stay out for lunch.”

After Hermione and Viktor left, headed for the park, Jean stood and started to tidy up the kitchen. “I can get that, Jean,” Remus said. 

“I… I need… I need to...to do this, please,” Jean pleaded. Her children no longer in hearing distance, she let the past day hit her. 

She’d met George in dental school, not that much older than Viktor was. It didn’t seem real that George was gone. It almost felt like he was out getting the milk and he’d be back in just a moment. But at the same time, she couldn’t get the image of her children crying over her husband’s body out of her head. A sob escaped her as she broke down. In the next breath, Remus and Sirius were on either side of her, holding her while she herself grieved.

They just stood there, bracketing and holding her. Neither tried to quiet her tears; rather, they encouraged her to release her emotions. Sirius pressed a handkerchief into her hands at one point, murmuring, “We’re here, Jean. You don’t have to be strong for us right now. And you can borrow my shoulder to cry on anytime.”

A huff broke through her tears for a moment, but then another sob rose in her throat instead. She cried until her emotions were spent for the time being, clutching her friends desperately. The handkerchief was soaked by that point, so Remus summoned a dish towel for her instead.

“Thank you,” she murmured after mopping her face with the towel. “I don’t know what I’d do without the both of you, especially now.”

“You won’t have to find out,” Remus assured her. “We’re not going anywhere, and we take care of our own. You taught us that, remember?”

“We just have to keep it together for the kids,” Jean said, catching her breath. 

“They’re not expecting you to do that either,” Sirius pointed out. “I’ve got a status spell on Harry, by the way, so we don’t have to keep looking out on him. If he needs us, it’ll ring, and Viktor will keep Hermione as distracted as she can be.”

“What’s Harry doing out there?” Jean asked.

“Based on how things look, he was gardening for a while, but now he’s playing with the football,” Sirius explained. “He’s got a lot of power behind those strikes… it’s pretty impressive.”

“George always encouraged that,” Jean whispered. “He’s not likely to do more than maybe dent the siding with the football, and it lets him vent his frustration.”

After Jean calmed some, she called the extended family, which brought on another wave of sobbing. She promised to send everyone the funeral arrangements; her in-laws, at least, were planning to come before the service. As she hung up, she could already hear them discussing flights. 

Remus then helped her pick out where to send George’s body. Sirius and Remus made sure that she stopped for lunch, though Harry didn’t seem interested in food. Instead, he went straight up for a shower, then locked himself in his room. Sirius thought it out of character that he didn’t seem to notice Hermione’s absence but put it down to grief.

By the time supper came around, the funeral arrangements were done, Viktor and Hermione had returned, and Sirius managed to pry Harry out of his room.

“What would you like to eat, sweetheart?” Jean asked when he came down, kissing his cheek. 

Harry shrugged. “‘M not hungry,” he said softly.

“Come on, luv,” Jean pleaded. “You have to eat something. Do you want me to make you a smoothie?”

“Not really,” Harry said, clearly trying to attempt a smile. “Thank you…. Though.”

“Would you sit by me, Harry?” Hermione asked tentatively. “Please?”

Grudgingly, Harry dropped into the empty seat at Hermione’s side. She leaned into him, reaching out for comfort and to comfort him; for the first time in a long time, Harry didn’t respond to her at all. As dishes were passed around the table, Harry’s plate remained empty. When Hermione poured him a glass of juice, he glared at her. But seeing her hopeful look, and Jean’s, he managed to swallow some of it.

At least juice didn’t sit like a lump in his stomach, the way food did.

As soon as the glass was empty, Harry excused himself and quickly left the room before anyone could object. They all heard him hurry up the stairs and shut himself into his room again. Jean and Sirius exchanged a worried look, and Hermione just sighed.

When the rest of the family finished their meal, Viktor spoke up. “I cannot stay much longer today,” he said apologetically. “But if you have burial arrangements ready, I vill come back then. Stay a few days to help out. Even if I must take leave from a game.”

“You’ll be welcome, of course,” Jean agreed. “I’ll jot down the information for you, and then you two can enjoy whatever time you have left today.”

“I’m glad you came, even if you can’t stay longer,” Hermione said quietly. “It… helps.”

“I vill come over any time you need,” Viktor promised as he embraced her. Hermione gave him a small smile, then melted into the embrace.

After supper, Hermione and Viktor went for one more walk in the park. After they left, Remus went upstairs momentarily before he came back down. “Harry’s asleep,” Remus informed the others. 

“Well if he’s not eating, at least he’s sleeping,” Jean said tiredly, running a hand through her hair. “I need something to do. How are the other kids doing?”

“They’re sad,” Sirius said softly. “But Cedric has a handle on things. Though the Ministry’s starting to ask questions why the kids were seen at Hogwarts with a not-dead Harry Potter. Amelia, Ashe and I are holding them off for now, but after we… after we bury George, it’ll be something to deal with.”

“I don’t think Harry’s in any shape to answer their questions,” Remus noted.

Jean sighed. “Don’t worry about it,” Sirius reassured her. “We’ll handle the Ministry.”

“It’s not going to stop me from worrying,” Jean breathed. “Same as I’m worried about how Hermione handling all this, or how to get Harry to eat something.”

“I know a few magic-” Sirius started.

Jean shook her head vigorously. “Magic solutions aren’t solutions. It’ll just delay things. And grief like this - if you delay it, it’ll just hurt worse when it does hit.”

“She has a point,” Remus pointed out quietly.

“The question is, how can we convince Harry to eat more than a few bites?” Sirius asked. “This isn’t sustainable. We could offer him nutrient potions, but…”

Remus was quiet for a moment. “I think we should ask Hermione about Harry eating,” he said slowly. “They’ve been in stressful situations at school over the years, and Harry hasn’t come home malnourished. So she must have some tricks.”

“And if she’s anything like her mother, she’s both worrying about Harry and wanting something to keep her busy,” Sirius added, gently teasing. “I can talk to her when she gets back. Maybe in the meantime, you can do some research on foods that can help get Harry what he needs without trying to force him to eat a whole meal?”

“There are ways to get extra calories into him, if we can get him to eat anything at all,” Jean mused. “Heavy cream instead of milk with tea. Ground nuts in pancakes or oatmeal. Hmm. It can’t hurt to look into it.”

“It’s something to do,” Remus agreed. “And even if it’s not useful now, you never know when it might come in handy later.”

Jean pulled out every cookbook she had and put them all on the table. Sirius and Remus joined in researching high-calorie recipes. They tried to flag any recipes for Harry’s favorite foods, and Jean got out post-its so they could make notes on ingredients that could be replaced with more high-calorie alternatives.

After Viktor and Hermione returned, Viktor left and Hermione settled on the couch with a book. It wasn’t much, but the distraction was useful. Sirius and Remus had been right about Jean, though. Worrying about Harry and trying to work out how to get him to eat did pass the time. Before Jean knew it, Sirius was clearing the table of the books and Remus was reheating some of the food Ashe had brought over for an evening snack. 

Getting Harry down to the kitchen for meals continued to be problematical, both that evening and the next morning. When he was awake, he was surly and distant. But more often, he was asleep. More than once, Jean or Sirius would hear Harry shouting in his sleep. But if they woke him up, he just mumbled something before rolling over and burying himself in the covers.

Hermione sat in the living room the next afternoon, once again trying to distract herself with books. She looked up when the fire flared, and Ashe herself came through. “Hello, all,” she called, greeting Hermione with a hug. “Harry still being distant?”

“He hasn’t really eaten anything,” Jean noted quietly. “We’re all pretty worried about him.”

Ashe paused for a moment. “Is this new behavior for him?” she asked eventually.

“No,” Hermione answered with a sigh. “He’s always been prone to skipping meals under stress.” Ashe nodded. “It probably won’t hurt him for a couple of days, but if it goes beyond that…” Hermione was just as worried as the adults in the room.

“Does anything else need to be done for dinner?” Ashe asked, accepting their concern as valid without further comment.

“Can you go see if you can get Harry out of his room for dinner?” Jean asked.

Hermione made a quiet, dissatisfied noise, but didn’t say anything further. When Harry came down, he didn’t say a word, just sat at his spot at the table and refused to make eye contact with anyone. 

“Are you hungry for anything in particular, Harry?” Jean asked. “Custard? Treacle Tart? A pasty?” She knew two of those were desserts, but she was a bit desperate to get something into Harry’s system.

Harry was silent for a moment, and for a moment, Jean felt hope start to rise in her that Harry might show some sort of interest. But it sank again when he shrugged his shoulders. “‘Mn’thungry,” he mumbled. 

Jean sighed softly. Hermione looked like she wanted to say something, but Jean silenced her with a look. “That’s okay, Harry. Do you want to go back upstairs?” Harry nodded. Jean poured him a glass of juice. “Drink that and you can go on up.”

Harry drank it wordlessly while everyone watched him, then beelined it back upstairs. Remus cast charms around the downstairs so that Harry wouldn’t be able to hear them talking. Hermione started towards the stairs, looking determined, but Sirius stopped her. “Trust me, luv. It’s not a good idea to confront Harry right now,” he said. 

“How would you know,” she snapped. “I know Harry much better than you. You didn’t even show up until last year.”

Sirius blinked. “Because I was in your shoes when James’ parents died. James wouldn’t eat, was barely getting enough sleep… what I didn’t realize that I wasn’t taking care of myself either, and we ended up dueling in the middle of James’ bedroom.”

Hermione stalled, then deflated. “I’m sorry,” she offered softly. “It’s not you I’m mad at, really.”

“I know,” Sirius responded, opening his arms. Hermione hugged him tightly. “Remember, we expected some outbursts of emotion. How are you holding up?”

Hermione shrugged. “Sad. Tired. I miss him so much, Sirius,” she admitted. “But it doesn’t do any good to skip meals or not sleep. It won’t make me miss him less, and if he’s watching us from Heaven or wherever souls go, he’d want me to take care.”

Sirius pulled back to study Hermione’s expression, and finally he nodded. “Okay. Come sit down, then, and we can try to figure out Harry.”

Remus uncovered all the food from where it was warming in the center of the table and served everyone. “I think we should go over the basics,” he suggested. “When, Who, and How would be my primary questions. When do we approach him, who does most of the talking, and how do we get him to eat. That is, I assume, our primary goal.”

“When is often the tricky part,” Hermione said thoughtfully. “In the past, it has generally been a matter of picking the right moment when it comes up. Harry can out-stubborn a mule, even on a good day.”

“And generally, confronting someone when they’re hungry is a bad idea, but that doesn’t do us much good,” Remus pointed out.

“Perhaps we’re going about this the wrong way,” Ashe commented after a moment. “Most of the time, both Harry and Hermione behave like young adults. You’re generally reasonable, and can be persuaded if you need better understanding. But in this case… perhaps we’d be better off treating Harry more like a child? Put food in front of him, and don’t let him walk away until he’s eaten it?”

“It could work,” Jean said slowly. “But it could also backfire on us.”

“Any reaction is better than what’s going on right now,” Sirius said. “I’ve never seen Harry like this before.”

“It reminds me a bit of what he was like first year,” Hermione said. “He always shares with me, but lately...”

“I think it’d be a good direction to start in, but we should have backup plans in case it goes wrong,” Remus hedged. “He could try to bolt or fight us. I think we’re all agreed that Harry isn’t thinking rationally right now.” 

“He seems to be in a better mood in the mornings. Why don’t we try to get him to eat breakfast tomorrow and see what happens?” Sirius suggested. “If he runs or something, we’ll be prepared for it. Harry can’t run faster than Padfoot.”

“Unless he transforms into Fawn,” Remus pointed out. Harry’s jackal form could outstrip anyone else’s form, except for Padfoot, and was twice as agile as Sirius was.

“If I can change quick enough, I may be able to catch him in those first few moments,” Hermione added. “But after that, I fall behind unless you can herd him back towards me.” Panthers, like many of the Great Cats, were sprinters; extremely fast, but only for a short time.

“We’ll keep that in the back of our minds,” Ashe commented. “Even in animagus form, he’s still able to be leg-locked or stunned. We could also possibly ward the exterior doors before breakfast so he can’t run outside. Running will only do him so much good if he can’t leave the house.” 

After dinner, they watched a movie as had become usual, then went to bed.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Handling Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been a rough week, and I'm not going to apologize for the late post. I love you guys, but RL definitely comes first.

Comforting each other

* * *

**Chapter 12**

The next morning, the family was tense, but ready. Worried about Harry, everyone ended up waking up early. Jean made a variety of choices, as far as foods: scones, plain scrambled eggs, a scramble with eggs and veggies, bacon, toast. Fruit was sliced and available. All to try to find something Harry could or would eat at least some of.

When Harry came down at seven, his hair was messier than usual and his pyjamas rumpled. He blinked, staring at the family who were already in the kitchen. “Morning Harry,” Remus said calmly. “Breakfast?”

“And we know you’re not hungry,” Sirius interjected. “But you haven’t eaten in a few days.”

Harry shrugged, a mulish look on his face. “Not’ungry,” he grumbled. “Haven’t been. No point.”

Jean decided to try persuasion once more. “Won’t you at least try to eat something? Even if it’s not much, I’d still feel better if you tried. Please?”

Harry stared fixedly at his lap and only shook his head. Sirius and Remus exchanged a glance, and Sirius opened his mouth to try cajoling. But Hermione’s temper finally flared.

“Harry, you need to eat. I don’t care if you’re not hungry. Eat anyway,” she demanded.

Harry glared at her. “No. Shove off, Hermione.”

“I won’t! You’ve been pushing us all away for days! Well, I’m tired of it so I’m pushing back!” She grabbed a plate, plopped a scoop of eggs on it, and set it in front of Harry. “Eat!”

“Why can’t you just leave well enough alone!” Harry yelled, pushing himself to his feet.

“Because not eating isn’t ‘well enough’ and you know it!” Hermione yelled back.

“I’m  _ not hungry _ !” Harry shouted back. “I don’t want any bloody eggs!”

“Too bloody bad!” Tears started to run down Hermione’s cheeks and the ends of her hair sparked with magic as it used to do occasionally when she was really angry. “I’m not going to let you waste away the life that Daddy  _ died _ to save!”

“Well maybe he shouldn’t have!” Harry hollered back. Objects around him started to tilt. Remus realized that Harry was unconsciously using his magic to push them all away. “Maybe I should’ve died instead!”

“That’s rubbish and you know it!” Hermione all but screamed. “Daddy loved you. I love you. Mum loves you. Why can’t you get it through your thick head that protecting their children is  _ what parents do _ ?!”

Sirius started to get out of his chair, clearly intending to intervene, but Jean rested a hand on his arm. “Don’t,” she whispered, barely heard over the children’s yelling. “At least she’s getting a response.”

“Because I can’t deal with it! Losing my parents again and again, I can’t!” Harry screamed over the barely audible whispers, his face red and tears shining in his eyes. “I’m not strong enough.”

“So, what, you’re going to push us all away while you starve yourself to death, just so you don’t have to deal?” Hermione shrieked back. “You’re going to make us deal with losing you on top of everything else?”

"I killed him, don't you understand!” Harry shrieked. “It was my fault! You should hate me and even if you don't, it's just a matter of time before you do! Don’t you get it? I’m  _ literally _ cursed." The adults all stared at Harry in shock.

“You’re  _ literally _ ridiculous, is what you are!” Hermione countered. “We love you, you absolute arse! What part of ‘family forever’ makes you think we’re ever going to turn on you?! You’re bloody well stuck with us, so get it through your thick skull! I don’t care if you hate yourself; that doesn’t stop me from loving you! It doesn’t stop Mum from loving you, and it certainly doesn’t mean Daddy didn’t love you! Are you really going to let his death kill you too?! You hate what happened? Fine. Then make it  _ mean _ something! Get up off your arse, eat your bloody breakfast, and get back to  _ living your life! _ ”

“You don’t get to tell me how to feel or what to do! He didn’t die saving  _ your _ life! Don’t you get that every person who’s ever loved me who’s dead died because they were trying to save me. I can’t… the weight…” Harry looked down and shook. 

Jean rushed forward and caught him as his knees gave out, easing him back into his chair. She didn’t let him go, cradling his head against her shoulder. “Okay, okay,” Jean soothed. “This is what’s going to happen. We’re going to have some breakfast and you’re going to eat what I put on your plate, even if you’re not hungry. You, me, and your sister are going to get through the next few days, which means eating enough, and sleeping enough but not too much. We’re going to get through this one day at a time. Three meals a day, eight hours of sleep.”

Harry sagged against his Mum, the short fight expending what little energy he had. “Everything tastes like sandpaper,” Harry groused.

“Does it? Or have you convinced yourself of that because you’re upset?” Sirius asked quietly, joining Jean near Harry and running a hand through his godson’s hair. “Because if it tastes good, you feel like you can’t be grieving properly?” Harry’s face fell, and he shrugged. “Listen, pup.” Sirius knelt on Harry’s other side. “There isn’t one of us in this room who hasn’t lost someone. I went through something like this with James and Lily; if we hadn’t changed Secret Keepers, they might have been safe. If Remus hadn’t been away on a mission to the werewolves, he might have known something was going on. But ‘what ifs’ won’t bring anyone back, and your Dad - either of them - wouldn’t want you to blame yourself for his death.”

“Remember what you told Professors Snape and McGonagall, back in second year?” Hermione whispered, just barely audible. Remus had an arm around her, supporting her as the fury drained away and left her shaking. “About your first mother?” Harry looked confused briefly, but then bit his lip and nodded. “Still true?” Hermione asked.

Harry very tentatively reached out and grabbed Hermione’s hand, nodding again. Hermione’s hand closed around Harry’s and she offered him a sad smile.

Between Hermione and Jean, they managed to coax Harry into eating a full breakfast. After, Harry was sat on the couch next to Hermione, ready to receive family. Hermione passed Harry their father’s copy of  _ Dune _ , grabbed a book for herself, and they shared the electric blanket. Sirius sat on the end of the couch, ready to divert any guests any time he sensed the kids needed a break.

When George’s parents arrived, Jean explained in a subdued tone that George had been killed protecting Harry from the man who had murdered Harry’s birth parents when he’d come after Harry a second time. She assured them that the man, Tom Riddle, was dead, but Harry was still very shaky.

Nana Granger clucked her tongue. “To think of someone attacking a teenager. Why would he have come after Harry?”

“There’s no knowing what goes through the mind of a mad criminal, cherie,” Papa Granger answered, saving Jean from trying to find an explanation. Before anyone else could speak, he moved towards the couch and crouched carefully down in front of Harry and Hermione. “We’re glad you are safe, mon petit fils1 ,” he said solemnly, holding his arms out to Harry.

Harry was startled; he hadn’t expected that reaction from their grandfather, George’s father. A nudge from Hermione had him almost falling into the older man’s arms, taking slow breaths to keep further tears at bay. “Thanks,” he murmured instead. “I’m sorry I-”

“Non, non. You did not make this happen,” Papa Granger assured him. “No one blames you.”

As more and more family arrived for the funeral, Papa’s words turned out to be true. After hearing the brief, Muggle-friendly version of the story, everyone expressed how pleased they were to find Harry safe, at least. Sirius and Jean generally kept people from fussing over Harry too much, and Hermione took the brunt of many tearful hugs from aunts, uncles and cousins. However, the blanket agreement that Harry wasn’t at fault and no one blamed him helped some.

Late that evening, an Owl arrived at the magical side of the house for Hermione. The message from Viktor’s parents included a shrunken basket that, when enlarged, proved to be full of food. Mostly fresh, all kept under preservation charms until they’d be needed. The note included told the family that the Krums would meet them at the funeral home for the service and would be in town for a few days afterwards to visit and help out if they were needed.

With everyone in town, the adults seemed to collectively agree to help distract Harry and Hermione, so Harry barely had time to think about how much he blamed himself for his Dad’s death. 

Katie showed up with Fred the next morning, after breakfast, the pair beelining for their respective partners. George’s family gave the whole scene a once-over, a little surprised at how much Harry relaxed once he had Katie in his arms. 

“Hey,” Harry greeted hoarsely. 

“Hey,” Katie replied softly.

“How’s school?” Harry inquired.

“Everyone’s rather confused since you showed up like you did,” she explained. “You should hear some of the theories.”

“Maybe later you can tell me?” Harry asked quietly. “I think I could use the laugh.” He turned to his grandparents and the rest of the family. “Nana and Papa, everyone… this is my girlfriend, Katie Bell.”

“I’m so sorry that I’m meeting you under these circumstances,” Katie said mournfully. “George was so wonderful to me.”

“It’s very nice to meet you,” Nana Granger greeted, coming forward and hugging Katie, ignoring the hand Katie had extended for a handshake. “Harry talks about you all the time in the letters he writes to us.”

Jean and Katie hugged tightly next. While she had just been introduced to them less than a year ago, Jean and Katie had been corresponding, and Katie had been planning to spend time at the Manor during Easter break. “I’m really going to miss George,” Katie murmured, tears slipping down her cheeks.”I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“We’ll get through this,” Jean responded. “I’m so glad you’re here for Harry.”

“I’ll stay as long as he needs me,” Katie explained. “I might have to owl my Mum and Dad at some point, though. They’re a little… shocked that my boyfriend’s come back from the dead.”

Jean couldn’t help but chuckle quietly for a moment, wiping the tears away from Katie’s cheeks. “There now, go get some food and sit with Harry for a bit. Can you try to get him to eat? He’s been skipping meals.”

Katie nodded in a conspiratorial manner. “I’m on it.” And she set to loading two plates high with food. Jean watched as Katie first cajoled George’s first cousin and age-mate into telling silly stories about George, then focused on getting Harry to eat. Jean sighed with relief as the laughter eased Harry’s stress visibly and Harry started unconsciously eating what finger-foods Katie handed him. 

“She’s good for him,” Nana Granger said in French. “She will make a good Granger.”

Jean gave her mother-in-law a look, but said nothing. She knew her mother-in-law had gotten married young and might not take Jean’s objection the right way. Harry had, at one point, shared with Jean that he had no plans of marrying Katie right out of Hogwarts, which had eased her and George’s minds, but despite their objections, it seemed Katie and Harry were headed in that direction. Jean could understand why, even though she wasn’t emotionally ready for it. Most of the Wizarding world saw his fame first. And according to Harry, Katie never had. Maybe with Katie Harry could achieve his dream of being ‘just Harry’.

“I look forward to meeting Hermione’s other beaux, too,” Nana Granger continued on when Jean didn’t comment. “It would seem only one is here right now?” It had taken a little time for Hermione’s choice of relationships to really sink in with her grandparents, but they loved her and wanted her to be happy. So they had made the choice to be supportive.

“No, Viktor and his parents will be meeting us at the service,” Jean explained. Nana nodded.

The service was extremely well-attended. Uni and dental school friends, patients from the practice, family friends whom had kids their age, and neighbors all came. It was clear that everyone knew what a loss George’s death was. The AA showed up, looking uncomfortable. Harry wasn’t sure if it was because of the Muggle clothes or because of the event itself.

George’s father gave the eulogy, making everyone cry. He spoke about how they had raised George in a banlieue, or housing project, in Paris, a rough neighborhood due to financial struggles. How George had gotten the good grades to get into dental school in England and instead of just thinking about himself, gotten both himself and his parents out of the neighborhood and eventually bought them their place in France in a much safer area. 

Harry couldn’t hold back the tears during the burial, but no one could. Jean gripped his hand on one side and Hermione’s on the other. Harry leaned his head on her shoulder, desperately trying to silently remind her that she would always have him and Hermione and their Uncles. Viktor and Fred were sitting on Hermione’s other side, while Katie was sitting on Harry’s free side. He couldn’t imagine losing Katie. He resolved to suggest that they all sleep in the master bedroom tonight. 

Sirius, Remus and Ashe sat directly behind Jean, Harry and Hermione. They all had tears in their eyes as well, but they paid careful attention to the trio in the front row. They couldn’t offer more than a hand on the shoulder or an awkward hug over the seats, but it was worth the awkwardness if it helped at all.

After the services were all done, the extended family insisted on a family dinner. Someone - Jean didn’t know who - had managed to pull some strings and get them a large, private dining room at an Italian restaurant. Jean was just as happy not to have to play hostess for the evening.

Katie, somehow, managed to convince Harry to eat more than the rest of them could; the couple spent the evening engaged in quiet conversation about the application of mathematical equations to Quidditch. The combination of Harry’s two favorite subjects distracted him enough that he successfully cleaned his plate without realizing. Jean filed the information away for later. Hermione sat across from Harry, between Viktor’s family and Fred, talking freely about childhood memories. The three of them were taking turns sharing funny stories, the tears shed not all tears of sorrow.

Hugs and goodnights were exchanged when the evening finally broke up. Hermione blinked and smiled when, after a moment of hesitation, even Theo pulled her in for a tight hug. She clung to all her friends for long moments, and no one objected to giving her the comfort she needed.

Two days passed. Hermione and Harry slept every night in Jean’s bedroom with their Mum. They didn’t exactly sleep well, but they slept. As meals passed and Harry was forced to eat, he seemed to have an easier time eating without being prompted. 

Things slowly began to settle into a new approximation of normal. The teens returned to their own rooms at night, though they were still staying at the Granger home, and mealtimes became less tense. So it surprised Sirius when a light tapping on his door woke him in the middle of the night.

“Hermione?” he asked lowly when he opened the door. She had turned away and retreated a few steps up the hall but his voice stopped her. She had her arms wrapped around her middle, as if she were cold, and when she turned back to meet his eyes there were tear tracks on her face.

“S-sorry, Uncle P-Padfoot,” she murmured, blinking a few times to clear her vision.

“Come here, kitten,” he called to her, opening his arms. She threw herself into his embrace with a suddenness that surprised him. “Nightmares?” She nodded. “You want to talk about it?” She nodded again, so Sirius led her down the hall to the magical sitting room. A moment later they sat on the couch, with Hermione tucked into his side.

She took a slow breath, and then another before she spoke. “I keep… keep dreaming about the battle. But not about daddy, not like at first,” she explained in a soft, subdued tone. “I think… I think it’s my fault Dumbledore died there.”

Sirius took a deep breath of his own before attempting to respond. “Why do you think that?”

“Because… because I disarmed him right before… before Voldemort got there,” she confessed. “He… Dumbledore was aiming a spell at Harry’s back. I don’t know what it was, but his expression was… cold. I’d never seen him look like that before, not even when we confronted the Order.”

“So you listened to your gut and protected your brother,” Sirius concluded. She nodded again. “Remember, kitten, Dumbledore was already dying. He was trying to force Snape into a position that would likely end with Snape’s own death. The battle happening when it did saved Snape from having to kill the old man, himself. I don’t know why Dumbledore was so fixed on the prophecy and the way he thought things had to happen. Maybe he finally snapped when Hogwarts was attacked. Maybe he was going to do something that could have protected Harry. But you were protecting your brother, because Dumbledore had threatened your brother more than once. We’ll probably never know. But that doesn’t make it your fault.”

“But I stole his wand,” Hermione objected.

“And no spell cast with a wand has ever stopped the killing curse, luv,” Sirius reminded her. “The only way to survive that curse - short of whatever Lily did to save Harry, which is still unique - is to not be hit by it. Having his wand wouldn’t have saved Dumbledore.”

“I still have it,” Hermione confessed in a whisper.

“What, Dumbledore’s wand?” 

“Yeah. It… when I took it from him… it felt like it chose me. Stronger than my original wand. I… I used it to get through the rest of the battle.”

“When Diagon is safe again, we’ll go talk to Ollivander,” Sirius offered. “When you disarm someone in a duel - a real duel - the wand can sometimes… change loyalties. Moony would know more about the topic. We’re taught that wands are sort of… loyal… to their witch or wizard.” Sirius sighed. “I don’t have the answers that you need. Keep it for now, but try to keep it out of sight until we get some answers, okay? Your first wand still works for you, right?”

“Yes, it’s fine,” she agreed. She burrowed into Sirius’ side a little tighter. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, kitten. Anytime at all,” he promised, feeling her finally relax. He hoped she would be able to sleep better after talking about it. And he would definitely get her and the wand to Ollivander at some point.

Dumbledore’s funeral was held the day following Hermione’s dream, and the family returned to Hogwarts for the sad ceremony. Regardless of their mixed feelings for the man in the present, he had once been a mentor to no only Sirius and Remus but also Snape and McGonagall, as well as other family friends. Harry had been determined not to show any emotion during the actual ceremony, but he knew he was going to have a hard time hearing everyone talk about what a great man Dumbledore was when the man had destroyed Harry’s life.

“Funerals are for the living,” Jean reminded them all before they left the Manor. “Even if you don’t feel a need to say goodbye, there are others who do. So we’ll go for them, if not for ourselves.”

“Yes, Mum,” responded the subdued teens.

Mention was also made at Dumbledore’s funeral of the many people lost to the war over the years, including a few from the recent battle. Harry and Hermione didn’t recognize most of the names, but there had been aurors lost when they came to help fend off the attack. Several students had been wounded in the crossfire, though fortunately most of the youngest ones had been hidden in the House common rooms.

Once everyone else had left, and their family was all that remained. “Mum?” Harry asked in a shaky voice.

“Yes, hun?” she asked, a hand on his shoulder.

“Do I have to forgive him?” Harry asked in a shaky voice. 

“No baby,” Jean murmured. “I don’t forgive him either. It’s okay.”

That helped Harry, knowing that he was allowed not to forgive Dumbledore. After they returned from the memorial, Harry resolved to never give Dumbledore another thought ever again. And for a great many years, he wouldn’t.

One morning in the week following the memorial at Hogwarts, Sirius came in with a grim look on his face. “What’s up?” Harry asked. 

“Lucius Malfoy’s trial is today,” Sirius explained. 

Harry blinked, then sat up. “What’s he being charged with?” he asked.

“A fraction of what he should be charged with,” Remus grumbled. “Considering he tried to kill you.”

“Thankfully, Draco wants to testify,” Sirius said. 

“About his parents being voluntary Death Eaters?” Harry asked.

“About everything,” Sirius explained.

“Can I come?” Harry asked curiously. “I… I want to be there for Draco.”

“I think he’d appreciate the support,” Sirius agreed. “You’ll have to sit in the viewers gallery, though.”

Harry shrugged. “That’s okay. As long as I’m there and Draco knows it.”

“You’re a good friend, Harry,” Remus told him with a fond smile.

“I’ll be going in with Draco,” Sirius explained. “He’s a minor, and I’m his mother’s Head of House. I believe Severus will be with us as well.”

In the end, Remus took Harry, Hermione and Theo to sit in the public seats for Lucius Malfoy’s trial. Theo had a similar trial to look forward to in coming weeks, Hermione wanted to know more about Wizarding trials as well as being there for Draco, and Harry was honestly grateful that supporting his friend gave him something different to think about for a while.

Hermione spent a great deal of the trial grumbling under her breath about partisan politics and very clear bias among members of the Wizengamot. It looked very much like Lucius was going to be released, much like he was after the first war, until the prosecution called in their ‘surprise witness.’

Snape and Sirius flanked Draco, who walked into the courtroom with his head held high and a carefully blank expression on his face. Harry saw a flash of anger cross the elder Malfoy’s face, and Theo whispered about how pale Fudge had suddenly gotten.

“The prosecution calls Draco Malfoy to the stand,” the solicitor declared. This was met with a loud whispering in the courtroom until Amelia Bones grabbed the gavel out of Fudge’s trembling hand and banged it. 

“I will order this courtroom cleared if this noise continues,” Amelia growled. The room drew dead quiet. 

Draco got into the witness box. “Now, Mr. Malfoy, until quite recently, you were considered to be missing. Many people have been looking for you.”

“I was in the custody of my maternal Head of House,” Draco explained. “Since I was a young boy, my father had taught me that I would have to become a Death Eater when I was of age. After You-Know-Who’s return, I feared for my safety if I returned home.”

“And you don’t want to be a Death Eater?” 

Draco was prepared for the question, but he still snorted derisively. “I don’t have a problem with Muggle-Borns. They have as much right to our world as any of us do. To say nothing of the fact that I haven’t even taken my OWLs yet. I’m still just a kid.”

“Understandable to any reasonable person,” the prosecutor was laying it on a bit thick. “Do you have any proof that may contradict the defense’s claim that he took the mark unwillingly?”

“I kept records,” Draco explained. “Every time I heard my father at how he took the mark willingly or bragged about how he bribed his way out of prison last time, I had the auto quill take a transcript. Once I was old enough to know what to do, I also started extracting the memories.”

“Objection,” the defense shouted. 

“State your objection,” Madam Bones allowed.

“Extracted memories are only valid in court if taken by an auror.”

“Or if verified by an auror,” the prosecution countered. “As it happens, young Mr. Malfoy’s memories have been verified and validated by the auror department. I have the documentation here.” He passed over the parchments with the auror seal visibly in place. “And in any case, a child who has learned to extract memories generally still does not have the skill to alter them.”

“Objection overruled,” Madam Bones declared. 

Then it was the defense’s turn. The defense solicitor was rather skilled at twisting words and trying to tear apart Draco’s testimony, but Draco wasn’t a Slytherin for nothing, and easily saw where he was headed each time. At least until the last question the defense had. 

“Mr. Malfoy, you stated earlier that you have no issue with Muggle-Borns, but your rivalry at Hogwarts with Harry Potter and Hermione Granger is extremely well-known to anyone who knows someone who attended there in the last five years. Isn’t it true that you resent Miss Granger for out-scoring you in every subject even though she’s a Muggle-Born?”

“I did, at first,” Draco admitted honestly. “I had grown up being taught that anyone of pure bloodlines should automatically be better than anyone who isn’t. But first year showed me differently. Second year, I actually got a chance to know both Harry and Hermione privately, and I learned that what I’d been taught was entirely wrong. Hermione is honestly brilliant, and she innovates on magical ideas because she doesn’t have years of history telling her something can’t be done. We kept up the appearance of rivalry for years, largely because if word got back home that I’d become friends with them… well, I don’t like to think about what the likely punishment would’ve been. Probably more severe than being punished for Hermione scoring higher than me.”

They all noticed that the defense did not ask about punishment at all, and Hermione’s frown deepened. Draco and Theo weren’t surprised, though; discipline of children was legally a family matter.

Instead, the defense asked, “You expect us to believe that your well-known rivalry was a sham?” His expression was highly skeptical.

Draco sneered at the pompous man. “Of course not. But ask yourself, why would Harry and Hermione be in attendance at this trial, if not in support of a friend? Or perhaps ask them, if you don’t believe me.”

Unable to find a hole in Draco’s testimony, the solicitor frowned and grumbled, “nothing further.” 

Lucius looked lividly at his son. Draco stepped down as instructed and started to leave, but at the center of the room, where his father was tied up, he stopped, straightened up, and murmured something to the elder Malfoy that no one could hear. 

“The Wizengamot will adjourn for the day to review the evidence in this case,” Madam Bones declared. “All of those involved in the trial are instructed not to speak of these proceedings until after sentencing.”

After the court was dismissed, Remus led Harry, Hermione, and Theo to a small side room. “We’ll have to wait here for a little while,” Sirius explained. “After that testimony, we don’t want anyone having the opportunity to do anything to any of you.”

“What’d you say to him?” Harry asked Draco curiously. “I mean, you don’t have to answer, but -”

“I told him that I wasn’t afraid of him any more,” Draco explained. “And no amount of beatings could ever make me afraid of him again.”

“The prosecution didn’t want to bring up the abuse?” Hermione asked.

Draco shrugged. “Technically, it wasn’t illegal. He was my head of house when those events occurred. And the prosecutor said that if she did, the defense could paint me as making things up for the sake of revenge.”

“With a little luck, he’ll have to deal with the consequences of his actions for once,” Remus said. 

“We’re proud of you, Draco,” Sirius remarked. “It takes more than just bravery to stand up to your abuser.”

They spent the next hour revising for OWLs until Remus, who’d been monitoring the situation, declared that it was safe to leave. Arriving back home, Harry realized that he didn’t feel as guilty over his father’s death as he had that morning. He realized he couldn’t control everything. His father had already been at Hogwarts when Harry had arrived.

When the trial was reconvened a day or two later, Sirius took Draco to sit in the prosecution’s witness area while the others returned to their audience seats. It was difficult to tell which way the decision would go, given that most of the members of the Wizengamot kept their expressions neutral. Fudge was the only one who didn’t, and he appeared flustered more than anything else.

Meanwhile, Draco had gotten a little more tense after his testimony. Everyone knew that his was worried about the results of the trial. Harry was called on the last day of the trial, about his experience in the graveyard in Little Hangleton.

“Cedric and I decided that we wanted to tie the Tournament,” Harry recalled. “A Hogwarts victory. The second we both grabbed it, we were transported to the graveyard in Little Hangleton. It was a portkey. I told Cedric to hide.”

“Why would you tell Mr. Diggory to hide when you didn’t do so yourself?” the prosecutor asked. 

Harry swallowed, glancing up at his family. He didn’t like remembering this, but the prosecutor had insisted since Lucius had tried to kill him. “I had had three attempts on my life since I started attending Hogwarts. Two of them were confirmed to be directly linked to Voldemort trying to come back to life. We have no knowledge of who caused the third. In short, I didn’t hide because Voldemort was after me and not Cedric. I wanted to give Cedric a better chance of surviving.”

“What happened next?”

“I was restrained by Lucius Malfoy and Peter Pettigrew and the two of them performed the ritual to bring Voldemort back to life. Lucius Malfoy stabbed me in the side to collect my blood as part of the ritual.” He swallowed, trying not to think too much about what he was about to say. “It worked. Voldemort came back to life. I was untied, bleeding out and in the next moment, he heard Cedric making a beeline for the Triwizard Cup. I had asked him to try to get back to Hogwarts, to get me help. Voldemort heard the movement and... aimed his wand at him. I didn’t stop to think before I stepped in front of it.”

“Mr. Diggory reported that you had been hit by the killing curse when he returned to Hogwarts. Obviously, he was mistaken.”

“He wasn’t,” Harry clarified. Everyone in the room gasped. The air was heavy with tension. “Voldemort… when my mother... sacrificed herself to save me… Voldemort accidentally created a horcrux, and put it into me. When I was hit with the killing curse, he hit his own horcrux instead.” 

“So you reported that you passed out. And when you woke up again, you witnessed the Death Eaters having a meeting?”

“They were nearby,” Harry hedged. “But I couldn’t tell you what had been said. I’d lost a lot of blood at that point. I was dying. I managed to get my broom out and fly away from there. After I was able to find a suitable place to hide, I contacted Hermione Granger. That’s the last thing I remember regarding the events in the graveyard.”

“Your witness,” the prosecutor said to the defense. 

The defense solicitor studied his notes for a long time, then glanced at Harry, then the Wizengamot, then back to Harry. “The defense has no questions, your honors.”

“Very well, you may step down, Mr. Potter,” Madam Bones instructed. 

After everyone testified, Madam Bones banged the gavel. “All those in favor of postponing the verdict to review all evidence in this case?” she asked. 

No one raised their hand. “All right,” Madam Bones affirmed. “We proceed. All those in favor of the defendant?” Fudge and a half-dozen people raised their hands. “All those opposed?” The rest of the Wizengamot raised their hands. Lucius started to fight against the bonds. “Lucius Malfoy, for your crimes of allegiance to Voldemort,  _ willing _ Death Eater association including active participation in murder and torture, and the attempted murder of Harry Potter, we sentence you to life in Azkaban.”

Draco sucked in a quick breath, and when he released it slowly some of his tension went with it. Sirius rested a gentle hand on his shoulder and gave Draco a small smile when the young man glanced over at him. “That’s one down,” Sirius whispered. Draco’s lips quirked and he nodded once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 - "mon petit fils" is French for "my grandson"


	13. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wrapping it up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we finally get to the end of the story! As always, many thanks go to our readers, our supporters, and everyone who has read, shared, or commented on our story.

Not quite the group image of the story, but it has more than most others. 

* * *

**Epilogue**

Spring passed by rapidly, in part due to the fact that they spent most of their time studying for OWLs, NEWTs, and other end-of-term exams. Death Eater trials were ongoing, but none of them involved immediate relatives for the purebloods in the family, so all they really paid attention to were the rising numbers of fanatics being sent to Azkaban.

By the time they’d taken their exams, June had started. Time, Harry learned, really was a cure-all for all manner of pain. While they still all felt the loss of George Granger, none of them felt the all-consuming pain that they’d felt in the first days after the Battle of Hogwarts - as it was being called by the media.

Even Jean had her moments, of course. But with Remus and Sirius - and often Ashe - with them, she didn’t have the burden of being the only surviving parent. It also helped when they had returned to Potter Manor with the rest of the group. They had all decided to stay together until after their testing and the Death Eater trials, and then consider what to do afterwards.

Harry still had a lot of guilt associated with his Dad’s death, so Jean had coaxed him into going back to his therapist regularly. These days, thankfully, Harry didn’t go with Hermione. The pair still discussed what went on in them afterwards anyway, but sometimes he had an easier time working through his guilt when she wasn’t around. It had taken him a while to even admit to her that he blamed himself for dragging her family into the war against Voldemort. 

His therapist was being pretty helpful. “For homework I want you to think about this,” she’d said at their last appointment. “If roles were reversed would you feel any different?”

“I don’t understand,” he’d admitted. 

“If Hermione’s parents had been killed by a serial killer, and your headmaster believed this lunatic prophecy was about her…”

“And I had James and Lily, while her childhood was full of abuse?” he finished. “I don’t know…”

“That’s why it’s homework,” his therapist said with a smirk. “Think about it, okay?”

Harry had. For days, he thought about little else. He realized, finally, that he would have taken Hermione in in a second, and he wouldn’t have wanted Hermione to feel guilty if James had died to save Hermione. It was a different sort of thinking, to put himself in his sister’s place under those circumstances; thinking about what she would like or how she might feel was one thing, but he’d never really imagined them in a role-reversal situation.

Realizing that he didn’t need to feel guilty didn’t make the guilt go away, but on some level he stopped expecting Hermione to suddenly start - or admit to - blaming him for what happened. That, in turn, slowly helped Harry to stop resisting when the family tried to comfort him through his moments of guilt and self-recrimination.

Hermione also went through waves of depression; hers didn’t have guilt or blame attached, but she had moments where her first impulse was to run to tell her father about something she saw… only for reality to catch up with her, that he wasn’t there to tell. She would sometimes find herself setting out one too many cups for tea, or fixing a cup for George along with the rest of the family and then staring at it with tears in her eyes until someone took the mug away.

These things were happening less as the months went by, but they still happened.

The therapist recommended journaling to Hermione as a source of catharsis. She had a small but growing collection of notebooks full of letters to her father, describing things she wanted to share with him. Some part of her hoped he knew even without the letters, but writing it down helped get it out of her head.

They all had their own ways of coping, but at least those methods were helping them begin the process of moving on.

As they drew closer to Nott, Sr’s trial, though, Theo grew more worried about where he would end up, if his father went to Azkaban. He had no other close family, at least not that the Wizengamot would recognize. 

“Theo, could I ask you to come with me?” Jean said rather shakily one morning. 

“Sure,” Theo agreed. He was taken aback when he saw that tea had already been prepared by the house elves. 

“Theo,” Jean started, after they were settled. “I wanted to talk to you about something.” 

Theo stiffened. “Is it about my father’s trial?” he asked.

“No,” Jean revealed with a sigh. “This is about the family. I wanted to make sure you knew that you’re always welcome to be a part of it. No matter what. And as part of our family, no one is going to force you into a situation you don’t want.”

“It could be a tough fight,” Theo said worriedly. “Even with the war being over, some of the old traditionalist families are going to want me brought up ‘properly’ as a pureblood heir…”

“Then we will fight them, as long as that’s what you want,” Jean assured him. 

As it turned out, Theo’s residence and guardianship was not the problem they thought it would be. Just one day before Mr. Nott’s trial, a reporter for the  _ Daily Prophet _ published an article that shook the wizarding world, the family residing at Potter Manor, and the entire population of Hogwarts in one headline.  _ HARRY JAMES POTTER: LIFE AND LIES _ . 

Apparently, in the process of investigating muggle records for Death Eater crimes, the DMLE had made some discoveries about Harry accidentally. The reporter had heard enough from sources amongst the investigators to put it together that Dumbledore had sent baby Harry to abusive muggles related to his muggle-born mother, and after Harry’s first year at Hogwarts (during which Harry ‘bravely defended Hogwarts from an apparition of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’) he had mysteriously ended up adopted by Hermione Granger’s parents.

Much of the coverage of the Death Eater trials was pushed several pages back as various writers contributed every opinion under the sun regarding Harry’s newly discovered background. Speculation ran rampant, particularly because many still assumed Harry had grown up with some knowledge of the Wizarding World. Many of the purebloods who’d considered challenging their family for custody of Theo were now contemplating challenging their custody of Harry. The challenges for custody of Theo were stopped by a combination of Theo stating that he was staying with Draco under Sirius’ custody and the fact that both boys were sixteen and would be of-age in less than a year. Since both boys were safe and in ‘proper’ custody of a pureblood. The challenges of custody of Harry still persisted. Only Sirius’ obvious involvement in Harry’s life as magical guardian, as well as his custody of Draco as maternal Head of House, kept challenges from actually being issued. The coverage of the secrets of Harry’s life got so bad that Harry considered penning an article himself about the truth behind the entire matter.

“It’s good that they’re distracted,” Theo teased. His father’s sentencing would be later that afternoon, and Harry could tell he was using Harry’s drama to distract himself from the probable results. “But really, Potter, does it  _ always _ have to be about you?”

“You know me,” Harry replied, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. “I  _ love _ being the center of attention.”

“Well, we have to do something,” Hermione added with a frown. She was staring at the latest headline about the Minister of Magic considering passing a law stating that all magical orphans without close family members to take guardianship must be adopted by ‘purebloods of good standing with the Ministry.’ 

“I don’t think we have to do anything,” Harry argued. “Sirius, McGonagall, Snape and the adults in the Order are all fighting against it. Honestly, we’ve got a couple of years before all of that involves us and I don’t necessarily want to start any fights until then.”

“What do you want to do, now, Harry?” Luna asked. 

Harry sighed. “I want to go to a real school. One where I’m Just Harry. I’m not anyone to go after, and I’m no one to worship. I’ve never gone to a school where I could just… make friends, goof off a little, and the most dangerous thing that happens to me is Quidditch.”

“I bet Viktor could get us into Durmstrang,” Hermione suggested. 

“Madame Maxime really liked you, so I think we could transfer to Beauxbatons too,” Draco added.

“Us?” Harry asked Hermione curiously.

“Do you think for a moment, Harry James Potter, that I’d let you go alone?” Hermione asked. “I’ve been watching your back for this long, I’m not going to stop now.”

Harry gave her an abashed grin. “No, I suppose you’re not. Do you have a preference in schools?”

Hermione shrugged. “Not in particular. Durmstrang would be a little closer to Viktor when he’s home, but he travels all over with the Quidditch team anyway. We’re both much more accustomed to French, so perhaps Beauxbatons would be the better place to study.”

“Viktor could also Floo or Apparate to see you in France,” Draco pointed out with a teasing smirk. “He’d have to do the same to come back here anyway. And Fred graduated this year, so it’s not like he’d be at Hogwarts either.”

“Can you take A-levels in France?” Luna’s expression was curious.

“I don’t know,” Hermione replied. “But if not, I’m reasonably sure we could make arrangements to take them here anyway.”

“Fleur could probably tell us,” Theo reminded them all.

“You… you’d all want to go?” Harry was a little startled, despite everything they’d been through.

“Going back to Hogwarts would be… unwise,” Blaise spoke up after a moment of quiet. “The Death Eaters may all be headed to Azkaban, but their children are still in school…”

“And besides,” Neville added, “we’ve come this far together. Why change a good thing?”

“Mummy-Jean hasn’t seemed happy about the idea of us going back to Hogwarts anyway,” Luna murmured. “And really… I don’t think any of us will be ready to go back by the next term.”

“No… you’re right,” Hermione sighed, subdued for the moment. “It’s… too soon. Never might be too soon.”

“Then I guess we’d better go talk to Jean about a transfer,” Draco said cheerfully, trying to lighten the mood. 

“Because we’re stronger together,” Blaise murmured quietly. 

“And family forever,” Harry agreed. “I’m pretty sure Mum’s in the kitchen talking to Kingsley Shacklebolt.”

“Again?” Hermione asked as the group started for the kitchen. Kingsley had been over nearly twice a week since George had been killed, mostly talking to Jean away from everyone else, though he occasionally joined the whole family for a meal.

Harry shrugged. “Sirius said that Shacklebolt lost his wife a few years ago and something about how he’d explain it to us when we were older. Anyway, we should talk to her now because she has to take me to therapy this afternoon.” 

“What’s on your mind?” Jean asked as the teens trooped into the kitchen.

“We wanted to talk to you about school, Mum,” Hermione explained.

“Should I excuse myself?” Shacklebolt asked courteously.

“That’s not necessary, Kingsley,” Harry demurred. They’d gotten used to him being around, and the household informality had gotten to the auror as well. 

“If this is about going back to Hogwarts,” Jean began, but paused when several of the teens shook their heads.

“We discussed it, and we think we’d like to try to transfer to Beauxbatons for our last few years,” Harry volunteered. “All of us, if we can.”

A quiet sigh of relief escaped, and Jean’s expression relaxed notably. “I think we can make that happen. Minerva and Severus have been discussing all the changes they want to make for student safety, but…”

“But they can’t be everywhere, and short of expelling students from Death Eater families they can’t guarantee no one dangerous is still in the school,” Draco finished for her, nodding. “We know they’d try, and they’ve never put us in harm’s way before, but it’s still a risky prospect.”

“And we’d all like to finish school someplace where we can just be students. No former rivalries, no fame - or infamy - hanging over our heads,” Blaise drawled. “Harry and Draco can play Quidditch, Theo and Hermione can get lost in a new library, and we can all make new friends who don’t have preconceived notions about us.”

“That sounds like a fine idea,” Shacklebolt said.

Jean smiled. “It does indeed. I’m proud of you all, you know.”

“We know, Mum,” Theo said with a small smile as he shifted closer and hugged Jean tightly. 

She wrapped her arms around him, a fond expression lighting her face; there was a time when she never thought she’d see him comfortable enough for casual hugs. Somewhere in the process of comforting the family through grief and then facing down Theo’s father, something in Theo’s heart had finally unlocked and he gained a new confidence in physical expression.

“Good,” she murmured, resting her cheek on his hair as he ducked his head to tuck himself under her chin. “I’m glad to hear it.”

“I’ll owl Fleur,” Hermione offered. “She’ll be able to connect us to Madame Maxime. I’ll let her know that all of us will be transferring.”

“We’re stronger together, after all,” Harry said with a grin.

“And family forever,” Draco agreed. “No matter what.”

_ End _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We hope you enjoyed the story! We do have some tentative plans for another in this series, but unlike with prior stories we do not have the next one mostly written yet. So I don't know when you should expect to see more in this series, or even if we'll actually finish another one. But it's possible.

**Author's Note:**

> We love and appreciate any and all comments and reviews! Please do share your thoughts; we're always interested.
> 
> This story will post Mondays and Thursdays.


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